Chapter 2
Genevieve’s POV Two words. Short and calm. Like she was talking about the weather, completely emotionless. I stared at her hard, trying to find even the slightest crack in her expression. But she just went back to rinsing the rice like nothing had happened. Right then, the early morning light reflected off her cold, distant eyes. Seeing that, a sharp pain shot through my heart. I still remember that winter when I was five. It was Christmas, and I suddenly came down with a high fever. My whole body was shaking, the fever wouldn’t break. It was ten below zero that day, and snow was everywhere, so Mom couldn’t get a taxi. Left with no choice, she carried me in her arms, running ten kilometers through thick snow all by herself. By the time we reached the hospital, her lips were purple from the cold, and her feet were bloody from being sliced open by sharp ice. But she didn’t seem to feel any of it. She only cared about getting me help. The doctors told her there was nothing they could do. But she dropped to her knees right there in the ER hallway, begging them, over and over, crying and bowing until they agreed to try again. That was the mom I knew. The woman who always put mine and my sister’s lives before her own. So why now? Why was she so cold and indifferent? I didn’t say another word. I just waited. When the results came out, it was exactly what I expected. A perfect score. The highest in our city’s history. News spread fast. First, the city, then the whole internet. Everyone was talking about me. [She must be insane! Everyone else was scared enough to hold back their scores, and she went and got a perfect one? Doesn’t she know all the previous top scorers ended up dead?] [I go to school with her. Her sister was the top scorer three years ago, and she died horribly! There’s no way she doesn’t know about it!] [Then what is she thinking? Is she trying to die? Seriously?] [I heard their mom raised both girls by herself, worked multiple jobs a day. The older sister died three years ago, and now the younger one scores full marks? How’s the mom supposed to survive losing both kids?] Some people were shocked by my score. Some felt sorry for my mom, thinking she’d have to bury another daughter. Others called me selfish, saying I was courting death and dragging my mom through more pain. While the world debated, I quietly started a livestream from my bedroom. I locked the door, adjusted the camera so the whole room was visible, and hit “go live.” Within minutes, the stream exploded. Hundreds of thousands of people tuned in, comments flying so fast they filled the screen. [Is this really the girl who scored full marks? Why does she look so calm?] [She’s livestreaming? Seriously? She must be fearless!] [Do you even care about your mom, who raised you alone?] [Your sister’s already gone. What if something happens to you too? How’s your mom supposed to go on?] [You’re so ungrateful! Is your test score really worth more than your life or your mother’s?] Criticism came hard and fast. People called me unfilial and selfish. They pitied my mom, saying she sacrificed everything for us, only to be left alone in grief again. But through it all, I sat still and spoke slowly, like I was telling a story. “Like everyone’s saying, yes, my mom raised me and my sister all by herself. It wasn’t easy. We’ve been through hard times—hunger, cold, loneliness. Every day was a struggle. But my sister was always so strong. So full of life. She used to tell me all the time to cherish my life and live it well.”