Part 2Rebirth: Sending the Man Who Abused Me To Prison

Sophie Hunter is the person I loved most in my previous life.

So when I learned that she had betrayed me, the pain in my heart was sharper than any knife.

From the moment she was born, her paternal grandmother despised her for being a girl, and her father was indifferent to her. Yet, as I watched her angelic face while she slept, I vowed to give my best to this little darling.

With no one to care for her, I had no choice but to carry her on my back during the day while working odd jobs in the factory and taking on handicraft work at night, striving to support us both.

As she grew up, despite our poor living conditions, she didn't fare worse than her peers. Her cleverness made me feel that everything was worthwhile.

When she got into the best university in the city, I was so proud. To earn money, to escape that stagnant home, and to see my daughter often, I started selling pancakes at the back door of the school.

The first time she saw me with friends at my stall, her shock was evident. I was overjoyed, waiting for her to call me "Mom," but instead, she hurriedly turned away, embarrassed.

She grabbed her friend and left.

I stood there, watching her retreating figure, feeling a deep sense of loss.

But I consoled myself, thinking that children care about their image. Maybe she just needed time to accept it.

Late at night, as I was closing up, she rushed over.

I was thrilled and quickly took out the portion I had saved for her, eager to warm it up.

I knew deep down that my daughter still cared for me.

But when she spoke, it was only to question, "Mom, why are you selling pancakes here? What will my classmates think of me?"

My heart sank instantly. "Sophie, if you don't let me sell, how will I pay for your tuition and living expenses?"

She stomped her foot, looking like she couldn't communicate with me at all. "I knew you would say that. But there was no need to set up right outside my school!"

"Can't a mom just want to see her daughter?"

"Mom, you're an adult. Can't you live for yourself? I'm your daughter, not your accessory!"

That night, we parted on bad terms.

I understood her feelings, but I didn't want to spend another day and night with a man who reeked of alcohol, nor did I want to work in a dark, lifeless workshop anymore.

I wanted to stay here, in this vibrant campus filled with lively students, where I could see my daughter. Here, I felt a sense of peace and hope for life.

Even though she protested with silence and refused to speak to me first, I stubbornly stayed, keeping my distance and trying not to disturb her.

One day, while I was busy setting up my stall, I suddenly spotted my daughter stepping out of a luxury car, beaming with a radiant smile.

The driver was a notorious playboy from a wealthy family!

I had heard students gossip about him while selling pancakes—he was known for being flirtatious, playing with girls' feelings, and had even caused some to get sick.

Worried, I tried to reach out to Sophie, but she wouldn't answer my calls. It wasn't until my monthly living expenses were late that she finally picked up.

On the phone, she scoffed at my concerns.

In her daily life, she continued to hold his arm as they went out together.

Feeling desperate, I sought out the playboy.

Eventually, they broke up. After returning to the library to study, Sophie successfully got into a prestigious graduate program.

At that point, I felt it was time to file for divorce again. I rented a place near the school and completely separated from Ethan.

Just as I finally felt free, proud of my daughter's achievements, and hopeful for the future, Ethan burst into my rented apartment with a knife.

As I became a vengeful spirit, I realized my daughter had revealed my new address to him.

It was my daughter who hated me for breaking up their family.

It was my daughter who felt I had embarrassed her.

It was my daughter who didn't want me to separate, who didn't want to bear the burden of a father with epilepsy alone.

In front of the camera, she sobbed innocently, "I just wanted Mom and Dad to be together."

At my grave, she smiled selfishly.

"Now that Dad is in prison, I won't have to bear the burden for the rest of my life. Good mom, consider this your last act of kindness for your daughter."

Hearing those cold words, I trembled uncontrollably.