Chapter 4

On the flight to Los Angeles, I barely closed my eyes.

New information from the investigator showed that my daughter's registered name was Lily.

She worked at a restaurant in Chinatown and lived in a windowless basement in the alley behind it.

In the photos, she was terrifyingly thin. At eighteen, she had the exhausted eyes of a forty-year-old.

What broke my heart the most were the fresh and old bruises covering her arms.

The plane landed in Los Angeles in the early hours of the morning. I rented a car and drove straight to Chinatown.

At seven in the morning, the restaurant wasn't open yet. The back alley was piled with overnight garbage.

A girl wearing a faded T-shirt and jeans walked out, dragging two giant black trash bags.

She was so thin that the bags seemed to crush her.

Her face had several burn scars, but I recognized her instantly.

Her face looked so much like mine.

She struggled to throw the bags into the dumpster, then stood by the sink in the alley to wash her hands.

The water was freezing. She shivered and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

At that exact moment, she looked up.

Our eyes met through the car windshield.

She froze, confusion flashing in her eyes, before she quickly lowered her head and turned to go back inside.

"Wait!" I pushed open the car door, my voice trembling.

The girl stopped, turning to look at me with a cautious, distant gaze.

"Are you Lily?" I approached her, trying my best to suppress the shaking in my voice.

"Who are you?" her voice was barely a whisper, raspy from a long time of silence.

My throat tightened. "I came from Seattle…"

"Do you know Melanie?"

Her eyes turned cold. "What does she want now? I already sent this month's money."

"No, it's not her."

I took a deep breath. "My name is Chloe. I am your real…"

Before I could finish, a harsh roar came from inside the restaurant:

"Lily! Where the hell are you? The dishes aren't washed yet!"

Her body tensed, and she turned to leave.

I grabbed her wrist—it was so thin that I could clearly feel the bones.

"I'm taking you out of here."

She pulled her hand back, looking at me with a complicated expression. "Ma'am, I don't know you. I have to work."

"I'll pay you double your wage,"

I practically begged, "No, ten times. Just come with me, let's talk."

"Talk about what?" She let out a bitter laugh.

"Lily," when I called her name, tears finally spilled over. "Listen to me, Melanie is not your mother. I am."

She froze.

The back door slammed open again, and a heavyset, angry man poked his head out. "Hey! What the hell…"

"She quits."

I cut him off, pulling a stack of cash from my bag and thrusting it into his hands without counting. "This is her termination fee. As of today, she no longer works here."

The man took the cash, his eyes lighting up. Then he looked at me suspiciously. "Who are you to her?"

"I'm her mother."

I took Lily's hand, and this time, she didn't pull away.

In the car, she remained silent, staring out the window.

I took her to my hotel, ran a hot bath for her, and prepared clean clothes.

When she stepped out of the bathroom wearing a soft bathrobe, I finally saw the full extent of the abuse.

Bruises of all shades covered her arms, back, and even her thighs.

"Who did this?" my voice was ice cold.

"Melanie."

I closed my eyes, suppressing the urge to kill.

"Lily, I need to tell you the truth. Eighteen years ago, I gave birth to a daughter, but she was switched at birth. The son I raised is actually Melanie's child, and you are my biological daughter."

She stared at me blankly, trying to process the information.

"Do you have proof?"

I unlocked my phone and showed her the files the investigator had sent.

She read through it slowly, very carefully.

When she finished, she looked up, tears welling in her eyes.

"So all these years... you didn't know I existed?"

I squeezed her cold hand.

"If I had known, I would have fought heaven and earth to find you."

She finally broke down. All the buried resentment, pain, and loneliness of eighteen years poured out in that moment.

I held her tight, as if holding a long-lost treasure.

"I'm sorry. Mom is late."

We stayed in Los Angeles for three days.

I took her to the hospital for a full checkup and to treat her injuries.

I took her shopping for clothes, walked with her on the beach, and took her to restaurants she had never dreamed of visiting.

She slowly began to open up, telling me about her life.

She started working under the table at the restaurant when she was eight, but because of the local school system, she managed to attend some high school classes.

"Never again," I gently stroked her hair. "Mom will protect you from now on."

On the flight back, Lily fell asleep on my shoulder.

Looking at the clouds outside the window, I had a complete plan in mind.

Carter, Melanie. You stole eighteen years of my daughter's life. I will make you pay for it with the rest of yours.