Her Mother s Daughter

My mother's "true love" had a daughter, and she was kidnapped.

Without hesitation—despite my struggles—my mother traded me to get her back.

Later, when the girl was safely rescued, my mother and her "true love" somehow forgot to gather the full ransom for the kidnappers.

The kidnappers called to demand the ransom, warning that if she didn't pay soon, they would beat me to death.

But my mother was too busy at the hospital, fussing over her beloved's daughter. She simply said, "Go ahead. Kill her if you dare!"

1

With a sharp beep, my mother hung up the phone.

The burly man in front of me, enraged by her indifference, wasted no time. His fists came crashing down on me, one after another.

"Damn it! We should've never agreed to that exchange! Useless brat—nothing but a burden!"

I felt as if my organs were shifting inside me, the overwhelming pain forcing me into a state of painful clarity and utter despair.

When he finally got tired of hitting me, he slumped onto a chair, while his lackeys took over, kicking me around like a ragdoll.

"Too bad for you, huh? Having a mother like that? You might as well be dead." The gang leader spat on the ground.

At that moment, my mind went blank. My mother's cold, heartless words echoed in my ears over and over again.

Then, suddenly, the pain started to fade. It was as if I were floating—my soul drifting away from my battered body.

Beside me, my phone kept flashing.

My dad was calling—again and again.

I tried to reach for it, but my hand passed straight through.

That was when I realized—I was already dead.

My soul drifted away, until I found myself at the hospital. There she was. My mother. She was bustling around, completely preoccupied.

Across the hospital lobby, her beloved—Nolan Moore—sat with his daughter, Lucy, watching as she hurried to register.

"Lucy, I got you checked in. You can go right in," My mother said, smiling warmly, almost… eager to please.

Lucy barely spared her a glance. "I told you I was fine. You didn't have to drag me here."

My mother awkwardly rubbed her hands. "I was just worried, sweetheart. You must've been scared."

I had never seen my mother like this before. The mother I knew was always yelling. At me. At my dad.

In the end, Lucy reluctantly went to see the doctor.

Outside, the sun was blinding, the heat sweltering. Yet when the light passed through my ghostly form, I felt nothing but cold.

Her own daughter had been beaten to death by kidnappers. And here she was—fussing over someone else's daughter.

My mind drifted back.

A month ago, my dad left for a business trip. My mother, in his absence, hardly came home.

Back then, I was handing out flyers at the mall, saving up for her birthday. I wanted to buy her a necklace.

That was when I saw her. She was holding hands with a man. A girl—about my age—walked beside them, her arms weighed down with luxury shopping bags.

"Lucy, is there anything else you want? I will buy it for you." My mother smiled as she reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind the girl's ear.

"Moira, you're spoiling her too much. She won't even use half of this stuff." The man beside her made a half-hearted attempt to protest.

Lucy, spooning Häagen-Dazs into her mouth, didn't even pretend to be grateful. She glanced around lazily.

"I want the new bag from that store."

Lucy's gaze landed on me. The store she was pointing at was right next to where I was handing out flyers.

She looked me up and down. Then she laughed.

My mother followed her line of sight—and the moment she saw me, the smile vanished from her face.

"Eva Cummings, what the hell are you doing here? Handing out flyers? Are you trying to embarrass me? Have I not given you enough to eat? A place to live? Get your ass home. Now."

Her words lashed out like a whip.

2

More and more people were staring at me. My face burned with embarrassment, and I wished I could disappear right now.

But the truth was, she wouldn't let my dad give me money, saying that too much money would lead a young girl astray.

My dad sometimes secretly slipped me some cash, but if my mom found out, they would have a huge fight. So, I rarely asked him for money.

As for my mom, during the month my dad was away on a business trip, I would have starved if I hadn't found a part-time job.

I clenched the flyers in my hand and forced out a "Sorry."

But after today, I could finally buy the necklace for my mom.

I hoped that when she saw it on her birthday, she wouldn't be mad at me anymore.

Under everyone's gaze, I quietly walked away.

Behind me, Lucy let out a mocking laugh.

I went outside to continue handing out flyers. The sun was relentless, scorching my skin.

Sweat dripped into my eyes, stinging them.

By evening, I had finally saved enough money and bought the necklace.

On my mom's birthday, I cooked a full meal and bought a small cake.

I burned my hands twice with hot oil, but I told myself it was worth it. When Mom came home, she'd see everything, smile, and tell me I did great. Then, the pain wouldn't matter.

But I waited until midnight, and she still hadn't come home.

I placed the necklace and a birthday card on her bedside table and went to bed.

In the middle of the night, half-asleep, I was startled awake by loud, urgent knocking.

I opened the door.

My mom stood there, tears in her eyes. Without a word, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me outside.

I was confused and struggled free from her grip.

"Mom, what are you doing?"

She slapped me—hard.

"Stop talking! Lucy's life is on the line. Don't waste my time!"

Before I could react, she shoved me into the car.

The car sped through the night. Soon, we arrived at an abandoned warehouse.

Fear crept over me. I stayed frozen in my seat, afraid to get out.

Then, I saw him—the man from the mall. He and my mom yanked me from the car.

"Eva, Lucy has a heart condition. She can't handle stress, or she might die. You'll take her place for now. We'll get the money and bring you back, I promise."

My mom pulled out a rope from the car and started tying me up. Panic surged through me. I tried to scream, but the man stuffed a rag into my mouth.

Then I saw Lucy. She was tied to a chair, but her face was perfectly fine—rosy, healthy, nothing like someone in distress.

The moment she saw us, relief flooded her face.

"My dad's here! They found someone to replace me! Hurry up and let me go!"

Her voice echoed in the empty warehouse.

"Alright. You have three days to get me the money. I let you swap her out, but if you don't pay up... Well, you might as well start making funeral arrangements."

The leader shoved me into the chair and pushed Lucy toward my mom.

My heart plummeted. I couldn't believe it—my own mother had traded me for Lucy.