Chapter 1919

My birth was a mistake.

My mother, Annette Austin, often leaned by the window, waiting for my father's return.

Enoch worked long hours, leaving early and coming back late. For a while, they lived like any ordinary couple, calm and quiet.

During that time, we were like rats in a dark sewer, hiding in a house that never saw daylight.

That house trapped both Annette and me.

I clearly remembered the day Annette took me to the market.

She wore beautiful dresses Enoch had given her. Back when she was a dancer, her moves were like a butterfly's. Graceful and breathtaking.

But at the market, people pointed and whispered about us.

"That's her. Kept by some rich guy. Got pregnant out of wedlock and had a kid."

"She used to dance at a club. Quit after hooking up with a big shot. Look at her, all dolled up, probably out to seduce men."

Annette heard the gossip and covered my ears. But I was already old enough to think for myself. I saw how they looked at us, like we were freaks.

"How much for these veggies?" Annette asked a gruff woman at a stall.

The woman crossed her arms. "I won't sell it to you. Go somewhere else."

It wasn't just her. No one would sell us food. Read full story at find~novel~net

Annette was gentle. She didn't complain. She walked the whole market until she stopped at a butcher's stall.

The butcher waved her over. "Come on. I'll sell it to you."

She hesitated, but he grabbed her arm. She flinched, startled.

The butcher's wife stormed out, yanking his ear. "You're cheating on me with this tramp? Are we done?"

The butcher's face paled. He let go of Annette and shouted, "She came on to me. I just felt bad for her and her kid, so I was gonna sell them meat."

"Sell meat to them, or is she selling herself to you?" his wife snapped.

She was a woman, too, but she showed no sympathy. "What's so great about a club dancer? Just a slut anyone can have. If you are someone's mistress, don't come out seducing men. Get out of this market and don't let me see your face again."

Encouraged by her words, other women grabbed brooms to chase us away. To protect me, Annette didn't argue with them. She just covered my ears and led me to run.

I saw their ugly, twisted faces. The women envied Annette's beauty. The men lusted after her body.

To me, these were low-life nobodies, not even fit to shine my shoes, yet they dared bully my mother just because she came from the bottom.