I stared at myself in the mirror, clad in the dress, and felt dazed for a long moment.

I had once been a girl who loved beauty, who loved wearing pretty dresses. But ever since I had to earn money to ransom Joe, I had never worn one again.

Years of relentless labor had roughened my skin, leaving it dark and coarse. This dress felt stolen—my tanned, worn skin could never do it justice. I shook my head with a bitter laugh, about to change back into my work clothes.

But then Joe suddenly burst in, grabbed my hand, and pulled me along.

He brought me to the nursery my son had attended at age three. He glanced at his watch, impatience flickering in his eyes.

"So late… why hasn't he come out yet? I'll have to teach him a lesson someday for being so slow."

I turned toward the door.

"This nursery was too expensive. He transferred schools at four."

A shadow of guilt crossed his face. He held my hand tightly.

"Sandra, you've suffered all these years. Now that I'm back, I'll give you and our son a better life. Where is he now? Let's go get him."

I drew a deep breath and pressed the tears down.

"He's too far away… we can't bring him back."

He didn't question me, merely nodded with understanding.

"Good. Without that brat around, we can enjoy some time for ourselves. We'll make it up to him later."

He led me to a high-end restaurant. Before entering, he even explained that he had secretly saved some money over the years to afford this. I forced a stiff smile. There was no need for him to plan and scheme just to fool me.

We had barely sat down when someone I hadn't seen in years appeared in my line of sight: Sofia.

"Sandra? What a coincidence!"

She slid into the seat beside me with an ease that made it clear she felt no boundaries. Across from us, Joe stiffened, awkwardly greeting her.

"Hello, Sofia."

"Joe, go to the front and order us some drinks. We haven't seen each other in years; we have so many secrets to share."

Her voice was soft, almost coquettish, the tone one reserved for a lover.

Joe cleared his throat and rose, leaving her side. Sofia's gentle gaze vanished, replaced by full-on provocation.

"Years apart, and look at you… yellow-faced and haggard? Unlike me, widowed, yes, but I found a husband who loves me even more."

I clenched my fists in silence.

She appraised me from head to toe, her eyes dripping with contempt.

"This dress looks familiar… isn't it the one my husband and I… got messy together and tossed out? Don't tell me you're so poor you'd wear my discarded clothes?"

My face betrayed no emotion, but inside, a storm of bitterness and sorrow raged. Was I truly so cheap in Joe's eyes that even the dress he gave me had belonged to her?

Suddenly, Sofia leaned close, her breath whispering against my ear, "Sandra, everything you once had… now belongs to me. You'll never be able to beat me."

I didn't resist. I knew she was right—I had always been on the losing side.

But in the next second, her nails dug viciously into my thigh. I struggled to push her away, but she pressed harder.

"I want you to remember… what doesn't belong to you will never belong to you!"

Sofia collapsed to the floor with a dark, victorious smile. At the same time, a burning slap landed across my face—Joe had rushed over in a blur.

Even a small scratch on her arm was enough to make Joe lose all sense. Sofia nestled against him, feigning hurt.

"I only complimented you for being thoughtful… and then… Sandra misunderstood me."

Joe spun toward me, his voice cutting, furious.

"Sandra! After all these years, you're still so childish! Sofia's life has been hard enough, and yet you always pick on her! Five years apart, and you've learned nothing!"

At that moment, it felt as if the air itself had frozen. Even when Joe's older brother was alive, he had always favored Sofia.

Whenever Sofia cried, Joe never asked why—he would unload a storm of scolding on me, claiming he had to "teach me a lesson." Yet the next day, he would bring a gift and soothe me patiently.

A slap followed by a sweet gesture—this was his way, his habitual pattern.

For all those years, I had been trapped in his sweets, never able to see his true heart. Willingly, I endured suffering for him. Tears fell silently as I felt the futility of all those years.

I wiped the blood from the scratches on my thighs—she had drawn blood with her nails—and went to the hospital for a quick bandage.

When I returned to the rental, every door had been removed. People were moving in and out, tossing furniture into the street. I panicked and tried to stop them, but they ignored me entirely.

I recognized them—they were the very same people I had paid off to clear my debts. They were Joe's men.

As he had said, if I behaved, my son and I would be granted a better life. If I didn't… this was the punishment. To vent his anger over Sofia, he destroyed my home, leaving me with nowhere to go.

I rushed inside, desperate to protect my son's belongings. But my heart sank. The crafts we had made together as a family—every little piece—were shattered and strewn across the floor.

I screamed, tears streaming uncontrollably. Just as I bent down to pick up the pieces, someone grabbed my son's ashes.

My eyes went wide. I lunged forward to snatch them back—but a sharp kick sent me sprawling.

"Get lost! Blame yourself for crossing the boss's woman!"

My head struck the corner of a table. Blood poured down my face.

I forced myself upright and called Joe.

"Joe! Please… stop them! I promise, I won't go after Sofia again. Just make them stop, and I'll leave immediately!"

He froze, stunned that I had learned his identity before he expected.

Hearing my heart-wrenching cries, he realized he had gone too far. His heart softened, and he ordered his men to stand down.

When the crowd dispersed, I wiped my tears and ran through the wreckage, digging through shattered furniture to retrieve my son's ashes. My hands were cut and bleeding from shards of glass, but finally, I found the box.

Seeing it intact, I collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably.

When I finally ran out of strength, I crouched there, holding the ashes, stunned and empty.

Joe returned in a rush. Seeing me, he finally exhaled in relief. His eyes softened at my red, swollen face as he knelt patiently to console me.

"Sandra… everything I've done was to keep Sofia comfortable. I promised my brother I'd take care of her. I'll never leave you again. Let me take you and our son to a big house, okay?"

When he held my hand, he noticed it—bloodied, shredded from the shards. His eyes blazed with anger as he pointed at the ashes.

"Sandra… you hurt yourself just for this damn box?"

Despite his fury, he still ached for me. He scooped me up, ready to take me to the hospital.

But then his phone rang—Sofia.

"Joe… my wound… it might be infected…"

Hesitation flickered across his face. In the end, he set me down carefully, giving me instructions.

"Don't touch your wounds. I'll come get you. Then we'll pick up our son together and give him a surprise."

I watched him leave, shaking my head bitterly.

'Joe… I'm not waiting for you anymore.'

I took my documents, lifted my son's ashes, and headed to the train station. On the train back to my hometown, his messages flooded in.

Joe: [Sandra, where are you?]

Joe: [Why can't I find his info when registering him for the private plane I sent him? Is our son…?]

[Gone?]