Chapter 4: The Accountant's Lesson

I felt her breath on my neck, her voice trembling. For the first time in years, I wished she would just let me go.

"Mom, I won't marry."

My voice was barely more than a whisper, but she heard me. She let out a long sigh, her shoulders sagging.

My mom sighed and pushed my dad out of the way.

She stepped between us, her back straight, eyes fierce. For a moment, I almost believed she’d fight for me.

"Child, we're doing this for your own good. The Ray family runs a leather business. They're the wealthiest in Silver Hollow. If you marry over, you'll have a good life."

She touched my hand. It was the first time in years she'd touched me.

Her palm was rough, scarred from years of hard work. The touch was gentle, almost apologetic.

"I saw Tom Ray's son today. He's pretty handsome and at least six feet tall."

She tried to smile, as if that would make it all okay. I stared at her, not sure whether to laugh or scream.

I stared at her hand. The cuts on it were no fewer than mine. I didn't know when, but tears fell again.

We were both marked by this house, both carrying wounds that would never heal. I wondered if she saw herself in me, or if she’d already given up.

"Mom, I'm only seventeen."

My voice cracked. I felt like a child again, begging for something I’d never get.

"I was only sixteen when I married."

She said it like it was a badge of honor, proof that I could survive what she had. But I didn’t want her life.

"The thing is, the dowry is tens of thousands. You know the economy is bad now. Your dad can't support such a big family. Your dowry is enough for your brother's formula for years!"

She spoke earnestly.

I could hear the desperation in her voice, the way she tried to convince herself as much as me. She was trapped, just like I was.

In the end, it was all for that newborn boy.

Everything in this house revolved around him. He was the sun, and we were just shadows.

I broke free from her hand.

I pulled away, wiping my face with the back of my hand. I didn’t want her pity, not now.

"What does him supporting a big family have to do with me? I never used his money or owed him anything. Besides giving birth to me, what else has he ever done for me?"

My words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. I saw her flinch, but she didn’t answer.

My mom got angry and slapped me.

The slap stung, more from betrayal than pain. I stared at her, my cheeks burning.

"Child, I told you it's for your own good! That's your dad, and the one lying in bed is your brother! Do you really want to watch him starve to death?"

Her voice broke, tears streaming down her face. I wanted to scream, but the words stuck in my throat.

Tears streamed down my face. In that moment, I wanted to ask: What about me?

What about the nights I went hungry, the days I worked until my hands bled? Did anyone care if I survived?

Back then, when I was little and you didn't feed me, how did I survive?

I remembered scrounging for scraps, eating cold beans from the can, pretending I was full so nobody would yell at me. I survived because I had no other choice.

If you want to support my brother, I can go out and work, even clean houses. Why do you have to marry me off?

But I didn't ask.

I knew it was pointless.

This marriage, I would go through with it.

But I would make them all regret it!

I swore to myself, right then and there, that I’d never let them forget what they’d done to me.

After that day, I stopped expecting anything from anyone.

I built a wall around my heart, brick by brick. I stopped hoping for kindness, stopped waiting for someone to save me. I was on my own now.

When the Ray family came to pick me up, I shook off the church lady and slipped away to Penny's pen.

The church lady fussed over my dress, trying to smooth my hair and say a prayer, but I ducked out the back door, clutching my suitcase. I knelt by Penny’s pen one last time, whispering goodbye.

I quietly packed the money I'd saved into my wedding dress and brought it with me in the car.

The bills were stiff and crumpled, hidden in the lining of my skirt. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had.

As I was leaving, Penny called out. I was startled. Even pigs you've raised for years can have feelings.

Her squeal cut through the morning air, sharp and plaintive. I turned back, blinking away tears, and waved goodbye.

The Ray family were businesspeople. Only after I was sent to their house did the thirty grand dowry finally reach my dad's hands.

He got the money, had a great time at the reception, and even packed up leftovers to take home.

He loaded up plates of fried chicken and potato salad, laughing louder than I’d ever heard him. He didn’t look at me once.

Tom Ray's parents sat in the living room, smiling and greeting guests.

Their smiles were thin, practiced. They shook hands with everyone, but their eyes kept darting to me, sizing me up like I was livestock.

Tom's hands were shameless, pinching my thigh under the table.

I stiffened, my face burning. I wanted to slap him, but I forced a smile for the guests.

I raised my glass to toast, earning glares from my new mother-in-law.

She pursed her lips, her eyes cold as ice. I lowered my gaze, wishing I could disappear.