Ann was badly beaten and left to die in the cowshed. After that, that woman pretended as if nothing untoward had happened as she bragged with the onlookers about how good she was in disciplining her daughter.

Her other children kept their heads down, their bodies shivering in fear. They were badly frightened to see their mother hitting their eldest sister with that iron rod. As for Amy, the little girl was sobbing, yet she dared not utter a single word.

After dismissing the crowd, that woman invited us, “My husband asked me to prepare food for you. You should join us for lunch. Today is that little bi*ch’s big day, and we will be inviting the village folks to the house. Why don’t you guys stay for dinner before leaving?”

I was still in a state of shock while Boris uttered a response, accepting the invitation. Seeing Amy holding my hand, the woman smiled broadly. “Ms. Stovall, it looks like Amy gets along pretty well with you. That’s great!”

I forced a smile in response. At the same time, my heart was overwhelmed with mixed emotions.

I had no idea if that woman knew Amy was going to become my daughter’s organ donor. Does she know how painful it is to donate bone barrow? Has she ever thought of how helpless her daughter will feel on the operating table? Does she even care about what her daughter will be facing?

Or, perhaps she doesn’t care at all. All she cares about is the money she can get from “selling” her daughter.

I didn’t receive a reply message from Ashton since last night. That afternoon, Brandon

children to sweep the water off the small patch of the cement floor and carried the small table and chairs out of the house. Since the table couldn’t fit all

Amy was holding my hand, whispering in my ears, “Ms. Stovall, Ann asked if you could bring her along

couldn’t possibly take Ann away with me. Even if she sneaked out with me, I was afraid the villagers might find out about it before we even

she sneaked out to find Ann. Although I knew the sisters would be disappointed, I still didn’t

the baby in danger. If I stirred up any

pillion was a tall teenager

a nasty gaze? I must have seen it wrongly, or I’m just overthinking. I furrowed my brows and shook

motorbike. His wife rushed up to the teenager and carried him on her back as if she had done it a million times. “Oh, my baby boy, what did the doctor say about your injury? Are

our family line when she kicked our son hard in the nuts. Fortunately, the doctor said he will recover. Carry him into the house and take good care of

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