Chapter 1 The Second Call
"Mom, is the food ready? I'm hungry."
My daughter's voice dragged me back to reality. I remembered I had requested leave for her at school that morning.
She had felt unwell the night before and slept through the entire morning.
The house had been so quiet that I had pushed the fact aside.
My knees buckled when the call came.
After the divorce, her father had refused to keep her because she was a girl. I took her anyway, even knowing single motherhood would be hard.
I could never leave her in that household. No matter how difficult it became, my daughter stayed with me.
All I wanted was for her to be safe.
If the child who died had been her, I would not have survived.
Thankfully, it was not my daughter.
I forced the tears back, set down the spoon, and pulled her into my arms.
My voice softened.
"Baby, wait a little longer. It will be ready soon."
"You are not feeling well, so we will keep the food light. I made rib soup today. Shall we eat together?"
"Okay."
Feeling her real, warm presence, the weight in my chest finally eased.
I thought of how I had shouted at her over homework the day before and felt a rush of guilt.
Nothing mattered more than her health.
I lifted the lid to check the soup. A few more minutes.
The phone rang again. His voice was even colder.
"Where are you? We do not have time to wait. If you do not come now, we will leave the body by the road. You can pick it up yourself."
The indifference in his tone made no sense.
Even if he believed the dead child was ours, how could he speak this way?
She was his daughter too.
Did we owe him something? Did divorce turn us into enemies?
I had planned to explain that he was mistaken, that our daughter was safe at home.
I changed my mind.
My voice stayed calm.
"Fine. Throw it away. Someone will see and call the police."
His anger erupted.
He cursed into the phone.
"Are you insane? I already offered money. Do you want me to carry her over on a sedan chair?"
I did not argue.
"I said I am not coming."
He grew frantic.
"Are you even human? Your own daughter dies and you will not collect the body."
He demanded confirmation one last time.
"You really are not coming?"
"I am not."
Before the line cut, his voice turned threatening.
"Fine. You will regret this."