My dad is a rich scion who has been kidnapped to a compound. He keeps telling me that he'll escape with me since I was a little kid.

When I was six years old, Dad made all the preparations to escape. He planned on leaving the compound with me.

But I didn't hesitate to expose Dad's plans to my grandma just for a piece of bread.

While I munched on the bread happily, Dad got strung up on a tree and whipped mercilessly by others. He glared at me resentfully while screaming at me for being a bastard.

Hearing his cursing made me sad. I couldn't understand why Dad wanted to leave this home.

Three days later, Dad killed himself by smashing his head against a boulder. After Mom got drunk, she accidentally beat me to death.

As I felt my life slipping away, I finally understood what Dad meant.

When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Dad wants to escape. But I choose to expose his plans to Grandma once again.

Mom's harsh insults rang in my ears. "You bastard, I've treated you so well, yet you dared to run away."

She held a whip with an indifferent expression and struck Dad repeatedly as he hung from the tree.

Dad's body was covered in wounds, blood dripping onto the ground. He didn't even have the strength to scream.

Grandma stood nearby with a frown, her voice thick with contempt. "I told you long ago that this man couldn't be trusted. Using him to get pregnant was one thing, but when I told you to chain him so he wouldn't run away, you actually felt sorry for him!

"If that little brat hadn't tipped me off this time, he would have gotten away! If he escaped and brought others back here, everything we're doing would be exposed."

Dad struggled to lift his head. When he looked at me, his eyes held no trace of their former affection, only pure hatred. He cursed at me in a hoarse voice, "You little brat, I should have choked you to death back then!"

Mom grabbed a thick wooden stick and threatened to break Dad's legs so he could never run again.

I stopped chewing my bread, lifted my mud-streaked face, and shot Mom an innocent yet cruel smile from afar. "Mom, if Dad's legs are broken, there will be no one to serve you anymore."

My words swayed Mom. She cursed under her breath, threw the stick aside, and secured a metal chain around Dad's neck. "I'll break your legs after I find a new boy toy!"

After Mom left to manage the compound, I tiptoed over and helped Dad down from the tree. Then I brought some leftovers to him. "Dad, eat."

Dad turned his head away in disgust and slapped me with all his strength. He spat on my face and screamed hoarsely, "Get away from me, you brat! You're not my son!"

I froze, staring at Dad as he hurled his harshest curses at me, my chest tightening with pain.

Just then, Mom returned. When she heard the commotion, she kicked Dad off the bed. "You bastard! I've been far too easy on you!"

Her face twisted with rage as she punched and kicked Dad. By the time she was done, Dad was covered in bruises and barely recognizable.

She said, "I used to let you sleep on the bed out of pity, but from now on, you'll sleep on the floor."

Mom dragged Dad into the side room and chained him to a corner. She glanced back at me and said impatiently, "You little jerk, if that bastard dares to hit you again, tell me or your grandma right away."

After seeing me nod obediently, she swayed off toward the bedroom. She muttered, "When he grows up, I can sell him for around ten thousand dollars. I can't let him die."

At night, after Mom and Grandma fell asleep, I slipped into the side room to check on Dad. He lay on the floor, burning with fever and twitching occasionally.

Grandma had locked away all the medicine in the house. She said that neither Dad nor I had any right to use it.

All I could do was wipe Dad's body with cool water again and again. Once I finished, I sat beside him with my knees pulled to my chest, staring blankly ahead.

This was my first day back after being reborn.

In my past life, on this very same day, Dad had made full preparations to escape the compound with me in tow. But Grandma had brainwashed me from a young age to believe that family must stay together, so I had seen Dad's attempt to run as nothing but betrayal.

At that time, I had reported Dad to Grandma without any hesitation.

Dad was caught in the mountains and brought back; Mom immediately broke his legs. Not long after, Dad took his own life, and Mom only cursed him for bringing bad luck to the family.

After Dad died, I became the only punching bag in the house.

A few years later, Mom found herself a new plaything. That same night, she got drunk and accidentally beat me to death.

…

In the darkness, I looked at Dad gently and held his hand against my cheek. I promised silently, "Dad, this time, I'll definitely get you out."

…

Mom kicked open the door furiously and jabbed at Dad on the floor with her foot. "You bastard, it's already noon, and you're still not up to cook. Are you trying to starve me?"

When she saw that he was motionless, she cursed under her breath. She then turned and shouted to Grandma, "Mom, give this bastard some medicine! Don't let him die. People from the city are so fragile."

After finishing cooking for Mom, I crouched beside Dad to watch over him.

By evening, Dad woke up. He slowly opened his eyes, and his gaze settled on me.

I held out a large bowl of food to him with a fawning smile. "Dad, eat!"

Dad slapped me hard across the face. "Why? Why did you betray me?" he demanded, his voice raw with anguish.

I fought back my tears and said with feigned innocence, "Dad, you and Mom are a family, so you have to stay together. I'm just protecting this family."

Dad stared at me like I was a stranger, then suddenly laughed. "It was my fault. I treated you like my son, but I forgot that the blood of a human trafficker runs in you. You're rotten to the core!"

Dad's indifference hurt me so much that I could hardly breathe. At that moment, I knew that I had lost him completely. He no longer saw me as his child.

I couldn't help but remember that Grandma had once rolled her eyes, saying I was a child Dad had insisted on keeping. When Mom saw that I had a defect after giving birth, she wanted to throw me away, but Dad fought to save me.

Back then, he was frighteningly thin himself, but he did his best to feed me until I grew up. For as long as I could remember, I had always slept beside Dad. His arms around me were my safest space.

Grandma and Mom looked down on me for being disabled and refused to feed me, so Dad gave up portions of his own food to raise me.

Every night, he held me and murmured, "Ben, hold on a little longer. I'll find a way to get us both out of here."

Mom and Grandma called me a burden, but Dad gave me a beautiful name—Benjamin Carter.

Yet now Dad didn't want me anymore, and I became an orphan. It didn't matter, though; I still loved him.

In my past life, I had overheard Mom say that she had deliberately given Dad a chance to escape. She wanted to see whether he had accepted his fate. If he hadn't, she would beat him until he did.

So, this time around, I reported Dad to Grandma again. Thankfully, his legs were spared.

Back then, I was too young to understand that Dad had been trafficked here, but now I knew. This time, I would help him escape and let him reunite with his real family.

…

As soon as Dad could get up, Mom yanked him by his chain and forced him to work.

Dad handled all the dirty, heavy work in the compound alone, while Mom went out to deliver goods every day. Whenever sales were poor, she would kick and punch Dad, yelling that he brought nothing but bad luck.

There was nothing I could do during those times. I could only hide nearby and watch Dad get beaten.

Once Mom had vented, she dragged Dad roughly into the bedroom. Soon, Dad's anguished cries and Mom's excited voice carried through the walls.

When Grandma heard it, she smiled so widely that her wrinkles seemed to vanish. Under the dim yellow light, her smile looked utterly terrifying. "I hope it is a healthy child this time."

At night, I slipped out of the compound and made my way to the hill behind it. The wild grass back there was thick, slicing my exposed skin until it was covered in blood. I endured the pain and gathered the herbs I recognized.

After coming back down, I stashed the herbs in my hiding spot and slowly walked toward the house.

The clouds had swallowed the moon, leaving everything in darkness. In the faint light, Mom's house in the compound looked like a giant beast with its mouth wide open, sucking the life out of Dad.

At dawn, I fought off my sleepiness and got up to cook, wanting to let Dad rest a little longer.

After I served breakfast, Mom glanced at me between bites. "This little brat is actually somewhat useful."

Grandma lifted my chin, sizing me up like merchandise, then smiled in approval.

She said, "Just as expected of a child born to someone from the city. Even at such a young age, you can already tell he's good-looking. When he grows up, he'll definitely sell for a good price. Some people out there have a taste for disabled people."

I lowered my gaze, pretending that I didn't understand what she was saying.

After they finished eating, I brought the leftovers to Dad, who was growing weaker by the day. He seemed to have accepted his fate. The light in his eyes was gone, and his strength was slowly fading.

I was consumed with worry, but I couldn't encourage him because he glared at me like I was his enemy.

Over the next few days, I went to the back hill every day to gather herbs.

Along the way, I always ran into Lucas Hayes. He was slow-witted, the adopted son of my third uncle, Dominic Hartwell. But I knew he wasn't actually foolish, and he was the only person who could help Dad.

…

Time passed quickly. A month later, Mom was found to be pregnant.

She was overjoyed and kept muttering, "I have a child now! I'm finally going to have an heir!"

For the first time, Grandma prepared a hearty meal for Dad as a reward.

But that same night, Dad secretly drugged Mom, causing her to miscarry. Blood ran down her legs, soaking the floor.

Mom's eyes burned with fury as she kicked Dad in the chest. "You bastard! How dare you make me lose my child!"

Dad fell to the ground, his face drained of color, but his eyes burned with resolve.

He said slowly and firmly, "I'll never allow another child of mine to be born from a human trafficker like you! Every child you bring into this world is a curse!"

The word "curse" struck me like a knife. I knew Dad was referring to me.

Mom was enraged; she grabbed a whip and lashed at Dad. "I paid good money for you, and you still dare to harm my child! I'll beat you to death!"

Dad writhed on the ground in pain, scrambling to get away from her. But Mom, wild with fury, quickly tied him to the foot of the bed so he couldn't escape.

From that night on, Dad was moved from the side room to the pigpen, chained there like an animal. Beneath him was nothing but dry straw. His clothes were in tatters, stained with dark red blood.

One of the other women from the compound passed by and asked about it out of curiosity.

Mom pursed her lips. "This useless stud had the nerve to drug me and make me lose the baby, so I'm teaching him a lesson. If he weren't so easy on the eyes, I would've sold him off already."

The woman smiled knowingly. "He really does need to be taught a lesson. Men are all the same—a few good beatings will set them straight. If that doesn't work, just ruin his mind, and he'll behave. You're only using him to have a child anyway; anything after won't be passed down to the baby."

She spoke with the ease of someone who had done this before, but Mom still hesitated. "If he's out of his mind, who's going to do the work around here?"

The woman pointed at me. "Isn't that the kid? Even though he limps, he looks capable enough from what I've seen."

Hearing the woman's words, Mom's eyes lit up, and she broke into a wide grin. "Olivia, you always know what to do."

I stood nearby and listened, my blood running cold. Time was running out. I couldn't afford to keep planning slowly anymore.