Chapter 30

Others also stood up and left.

"Zoey, we're heading out now."

Someone muttered under their breath, but their words reached my ears clearly.

"Does she even have the nerve to go against Sara? Doesn't she know she's the one who stole someone else's man?"

"Jealous, obviously! Sara's beautiful and accomplished. What does she have?"

"She makes trouble for Sara, and in the end, it's her husband who goes to comfort Sara. How stupid!"

Their mocking laughter faded into the distance, leaving the large private room eerily quiet.

Alone, I let out a faint, bitter chuckle and poured myself another glass of liquor. I drained it in one gulp.

To be honest, Sara wasn't entirely wrong-I hadn't been to those places.

But I knew she was lying.

Because of my mother.

I wasn't born without parents.

My mother was a doctor with Médecins Sans Frontières, stationed in war zones.

In those days, for a woman to work abroad while her husband stayed behind to raise their child was unthinkable.

Neighbors would sneer and taunt, saying:

"Your mother doesn't want you anymore!"

I clenched my fists and fought to defend myself, protecting what little pride I had, only to face even harsher ridicule.

Mother frequently sent letters stamped with exotic postmarks, recounting her work and life in detail, often accompanied by photographs.

Whenever my father read her letters to me, I would envision the heroic image of a brilliant doctor.

She once told me:

but the real world is vast. You must see it for yourself. Broaden your horizons, and only then will you know

she died in the line of duty

hospital managed to

she had risked her life to protect, there was a photograph of me-taken who

"killed in action" meant, but I did

the limelight never meet a

my mother,

Document and experience

you know what

I found that old camera, its weathered body

to hold some lingering warmth of

her relic, and my childhood

in my hands, I let my tears slip through

I miss you

The next morning.

headache

eyes, recognizing the familiar ceiling above-it

recollection of

my throat, I noticed Jackson

is how you behave as

and

the desk

hoarse as

Jackson smirked coldly.

gave it

My breath caught.

"What did you say?"

crossed his arms, a disdainful smile tugging at his

tell her to take more

deafening roar filled my

given my

from my hand and shattered. I lunged

collar, shouting hysterically:

dare you touch my camera?!

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