CHAPTER 2
Just as my hand touched the doorknob, I faintly heard muffled sobs coming from Maya’s room. Without wasting any time, I slowly opened the door and stepped inside. The fading twilight slipped through the gap in the curtains, illuminating the small figure curled up in the corner of the bed.
Maya startled when she saw me enter and hurriedly wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Her face was deathly pale, and when she turned around, I could see that the purple mark had become even clearer, as though it were slowly creeping upward toward her shoulder.
“Mom…” Her voice trembled. “It feels even colder. Like something is pulling me away from here.”
I sat on the edge of the bed and placed my hand on her head. My touch wasn’t warm at all—that was all that remained of me after that pact—but Maya pressed her cheek against it as though it were the safest place in the world.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” I said calmly, even as my mind began piecing together clues I had noticed long ago. “Mom won’t let anything happen to you.”
Ever since my husband’s death several years ago, my life had revolved around one thing: making sure Maya grew up happy and safe.
But lately, something strange had been happening. Ever since she started at her new school, Maya had become an extremely quiet child. She was no longer as cheerful as she used to be and spent more and more time shut away in her room. Then one day, while I was helping her organize her clothes, my eyes accidentally caught sight of the strange scar on her body. It wasn’t an ordinary scratch, but a purplish bruise with a deliberate-looking pattern, as though it had been made on purpose. The wound looked painful, and Maya had never wanted to tell me how she got it.
My heart broke when I saw it. I knew for certain that she was hiding something from me. I had to learn the truth, and I would make sure no one ever hurt my daughter again.
I decided to go to Maya’s school to find out the truth. While I was busy thinking of a way to do that, someone rushing past suddenly slammed into me.
“I’m sorry, sis! I didn’t mean to!” the person who had collided with me exclaimed. They stopped immediately, lowered their head in fear, then looked up at me.
It turned out to be a student who attended the same school as Maya. His face was pale, his eyes glistening with tears and filled with guilt.
“It’s all right. You’re not hurt?” I asked gently, even though my heart was filled with unease.
He slowly shook his head, but his eyes remained fixed on me as if he wanted to say something. He started to leave, but hesitation seemed to hold him back.
“You… you’re Maya’s older sister, right?” he asked hesitantly.
I was stunned for a moment. “That’s right. How did you know?”
The boy bit his lip, looking deeply troubled.
“You look so much like her. I… I want to apologize. Or rather… I want to tell you something. But I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?” I asked, my voice beginning to tremble as I held back my worry. “What happened to Maya? Do you know who hurt her?”
The boy lowered his head, and tears began to fall. “It… it wasn’t her fault. The people in my group often ganged up on her. They forced her to do things she didn’t want to do, and whenever she refused… they hurt her on purpose. They threatened to hurt me too if I dared to speak up.”
It felt as though the world had collapsed before my eyes. My daughter had been suffering all alone, and I had never realized it. Anger and sorrow surged through my chest, but I tried to remain calm in front of the boy.
“Thank you for being brave enough to speak up,” I said, trying to steady myself. “You don’t need to be afraid. I won’t let them hurt anyone ever again.”
This accidental encounter opened my eyes. Maya’s suffering wasn’t some inexplicable mystery, as I had imagined. It was the result of human cruelty—cruelty committed by people who were supposed to look out for one another. I made a promise to myself: no matter what happened, I would protect my daughter and make sure justice was served.
I immediately took out my phone and called my assistant.
“Those kids are going to regret messing with my daughter,” I muttered under my breath.
The sound of Maya’s sobs still seemed to echo in my ears as my fingers pressed the call button. It wasn’t long before a firm voice answered from the other end.
“Ms. Alena?”
“Prepare all of Maya’s school records, a list of her classmates’ names, and their parents’ information. Now,” I said curtly, though every word felt heavy in my throat. “And contact the school. Ask them to schedule a meeting with the principal and Maya’s homeroom teacher tomorrow morning. Not a second of delay.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take care of it immediately.” The call ended.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart…” I whispered hoarsely. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize. But starting today, no one is allowed to touch you—not even with a single finger.”