Chapter 1: Pop-Up Truths

After the SATs, my daughter—who once threatened to run away and drop out of school—suddenly turned obedient. She was crying, clutching my leg, begging me to let her repeat her senior year.

I stopped at the kitchen counter, pressing my fingers to my temples, the familiar ache behind my eyes pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I was just about to give in and reach for my wallet when, out of nowhere, a wild flurry of pop-up comments flickered before my eyes, just like some social media live stream on overdrive:

[This dad is so annoying, always trying to break up the heroine and her boyfriend.]

[In her last life, he forced our girl to break up with her boyfriend, pressured her to study, and get into college. Even though she ended up with no worries about food or money, she still missed the one she loved most.]

[But luckily, our girl got a second chance. This time, pretending to give in is just to get money to run away with her boyfriend.]

[Wow, our precious girl is so brave, willing to endure anything for true love, standing up to that stubborn, old-fashioned dad.]

I glanced at Natalie, watching her put on the waterworks, her phone screen lighting up every few seconds. There was something practiced about her sobs—a tremble in her voice she must've rehearsed. Her fingertips kept darting over her phone, probably texting that punk boyfriend or doom-scrolling TikTok.

And in that moment, a wave of relief washed over me. Like the last balloon string had finally slipped from my hand.

If she’s going to be this ungrateful, maybe it’s better not to have a daughter at all. The thought sounded cruel, but right then, I just felt numb.