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.

Olivia glanced at Dad's frail frame. "If you're going to keep him for breeding, you need to fatten him up a bit. Otherwise, he'll be dead before he makes a single penny."

Mom nodded with obvious reluctance. "Fine, I'll give him more to eat this month."

From that day on, Mom fed Dad as if he were livestock. When he refused to eat, she broke his teeth and shoved the food into his mouth.

A month passed, and Dad had put on a little weight.

Christmas was three days away. I walked into the pigpen and crouched down in front of Dad.

Dad curled up on the straw, his haggard face completely stripped of the handsomeness he once had.

He opened his eyes slightly, then shut them in disgust when he realized it was me. "Get away from me, you little bastard!"

I took in every detail of his face, unwilling to look away. I whispered, "Dad, Christmas is coming. You'll be reunited with your family soon. Are you happy?"

Dad sneered. "Reunite with that human trafficker and a little bastard like you? I wish I could kill you all!"

I hung my head in sadness.

…

Christmas was a big day for the family, and many people came over. Early in the morning, Grandma woke me up and made me prepare a large pot of beef stew for once.

I stood on a chair to stir the pot and poured in the powdered medicine I had gathered little by little. Dad and I weren't allowed to eat such good food, so they alone would collapse when the time came.

Winter nights fell quickly, and by a little past 7:00 pm, it was already pitch dark.

Out in the yard, Grandma and Mom slowly collapsed after eating the dish, and the others went limp to the ground.

My heart raced. I waved to Lucas, who was hiding in the darkness, and went to the pigpen with him to free Dad.

Lucas' expression was utterly serious. He quickly put a coat on Dad, who looked surprised, and swapped his broken shoes for a good pair. "There's no time to explain. I'm an undercover cop. Come with me."

I held out a bundle to Dad and said softly, "Dad, this is the bread I saved up. Eat it on the way."

Dad pushed me to the ground with hatred and shouted, "Get away, you little bastard! Are you trying to stop me again?"

I pressed my hand over my scraped elbow. My lips moved, but the words wouldn't come.

Lucas stopped Dad and explained, "Ben was trying to protect you. That woman gave you the chance to escape on purpose last time. If you had really run away, she would have broken your legs."

Dad froze for a moment, then pulled me into a hug, his expression complicated. I eagerly breathed in Dad's warm scent, silently wishing we could hold each other a little longer.

After following Dad up the back hill, I turned and looked toward the compound. Pinpoints of torchlight were moving quickly in the distance.

Dad looked at the torches in terror, his voice shaking. "They're coming after us."

Lucas' face hardened. "Run! This is our only chance. We can't let them catch us!"

We rushed through the darkness as the search party with torches closed in. Almost everyone from the compound seemed to have come out to the hill.

A burly man held up a shoe and shouted, "That bastard ran this way!"

The person in charge of the compound wore a dark expression. "This is the first time any of my cargo has dared to run. Track them down. Bring them back, alive or dead!"

I stumbled through grass as tall as I was, my lungs burning and my skin stinging all over.

A furious voice came from behind me. "You bastard, you're still trying to run, huh? When I catch you, I'll break your arms and legs!"

They were getting closer!

A whistling sound tore through the air, and a sharp pain exploded in my calf. I looked down to see a harpoon piercing my leg.

I scrambled to the edge of the cliff. I glanced at the crowd that was closing in, figured out the time in my head, and smiled happily.

This time, they could no longer stop Dad from escaping.