I don't quite understand what divorce means, but ever since Dad left, and with Mom always busy with work, there's been no one to build Legos with me, read me stories, or lift me up high into the air. Even the delicious desserts Faye makes can't make me happy anymore. I miss Dad's trifle.

Tonight, Mom had another engagement to attend, and I desperately clung to her, not wanting her to leave, my face streaked with tears and snot. Even Faye couldn't bear it anymore: "Ma'am, why not take Miss Carolina with you? Without her dad around and you often being away, it's tough for her at such a young age."

"But it's not an appropriate place for her..." Mom hesitated, looking at my pitiful face, and finally she gave in.

...

At the Majestic Entertainment Club.

The dance floor was dimly lit, the music was deafening, and the crowd moved their bodies with abandon. Drinks swirled in glasses, looking as tempting as ever. In the private suite on the top floor, the city's elite were gathered, all eyes glued to the TV screen as I held the microphone and sang a popular children's song.

"Happy Lamb, Beautiful Lamb, Lazy Lamb, Lovable Lamb, Silly Lamb, Fluffy Wool, Red Wolf, Grey Wolf, don't look at me as just a sheep, the grass is greener because of me, the sky is bluer because of me, the clouds are fluffier because of me..."

When the song ended, thunderous applause erupted.

"Amazing! What a wonderful voice!"

"Indeed, she's Joanna's daughter; like mother, like daughter!"

"Yes, yes, Joanna has raised her daughter well. The child is destined for great things!"

...

The kids in Sunflower Class always say I can't carry a tune and that I sing off-key. This was the first time so many people praised my singing, and I was so excited that I wanted to sing another song.

But then my mom intervened, "Sweetie, let Sylas take you outside to play. Mom will finish her business here soon, okay?"

Alright.

I pouted, reluctantly putting down the microphone, and took Sylas's hand, walking out of the suite. Oh right, Sylas is the young star who, as Faye whispered, was my mom's "friend." He's only ten years older than me, which Faye finds quite surprising!

Sylas took me to the neighboring suite. He was very skilled and even made me two pretty braids. I looked up at him, blinking my eyes, and asked, "Handsome brother, what's your relationship with my mom?"

He pinched my cheek and smiled gently, "Joanna is my boss and also my patron."

Patron? I don't quite understand what that means.

"So if my mom and dad get divorced, will you marry my mom?"

Sylas paused for a moment and then said softly, "If she's willing."

Uh-oh, suddenly he looked a bit like my dad to me, especially when he smiled, with those arched eyebrows and sparkling eyes.

The door to the private suite wasn’t fully closed, and as a group of people passed by, I thought I caught a glimpse of my dad. Pretending I wanted to play hide and seek with Sylas, I waited for him to close his eyes, then quietly slipped away.

Trailing the group, I found my way back to the suite where Mom and the others were. I hid in a corner, watching my dad and a few young men line up in the center of the room. The agent, with a face full of fawning smiles, was addressing the people seated on the sofas, "Joanna, Mr. Duncan, all of you esteemed executives, I heard you’re launching a major new production. These are my newly signed artists—they’ve got the looks and the physique. If they get a role, they’re bound to become stars."

He especially highlighted my dad: "Especially this one—does he look familiar? Yusuf Ross, who shot to fame five years ago with his debut film 'The Alps.' Unfortunately, he stepped away for a few years, but now he's making a comeback. The talent is still there, execs, give him a chance!"

"Yusuf Ross?" Mr. Duncan pondered for a moment, then slapped his thigh in realization. "Ah, I remember. Back then, he was quite the sensation, trending everywhere on social media, called 'the eternal heartthrob' and 'boy wonder.' But time waits for no one, and now the boy’s turned middle-aged."

The men burst into laughter.

"Come on, that’s not fair," the agent responded awkwardly but still smiled ingratiatingly. "He was just 20 then, and now he’s only 25, the perfect age for an actor."

"The perfect age? With 18- and 19-year-olds popping up all the time, who cares about those past their prime?" Mr. Duncan turned to my mom with a flattering smile, "I think Sylas from Joanna's agency would be great for the second male lead. What do you think?"

My mom didn’t answer. She just lifted her head and stared coolly at my dad. Under such an intense gaze, my dad’s face turned beet red, unsure of where to put his hands and feet.

The agent, sensing an opportunity, doubled down on his sales pitch: "Joanna, why not have him stick around tonight, keep you company? Yusuf here is nothing if not obedient and reliable…"

"Enough."

I couldn’t hold back any longer. Jumping out from my hiding spot, I pointed a finger at the agent, "You’re a jerk!" I then pointed to Mr. Duncan and the rest of the men on the sofa, "Jerks! You’re all jerks! You can’t push my dad around!"

My outburst stunned the room, and everyone looked as if their eyes might pop out. They glanced back and forth between me, my dad, and my mom, taking a while to piece together the connection.

Seeing me, my dad’s eyes widened, fury overcoming his fear of my mom, as he shouted, "Carolina, did you seriously bring our daughter to a club?!"

This was the first time I saw my dad so furious.

He picked me up and pulled my mom out of the club. "Joanna, I agreed to let you have custody of Carolina, not because I'm afraid of you, but because I know you can provide her with a better environment. But if this is how you're raising her, I'll fight for custody with everything I've got!"

My mom remained composed despite his anger. "She'll eventually take over for me one day. It's not necessarily a bad thing for her to get comfortable in these settings early on."

"You!" My dad was so upset by her indifference that his nostrils flared with anger.

"Still want to fight for custody?" my mom sneered. "If I weren't around today, who knows whose bed you'd end up in again? Yusuf, with how reckless you are, how can you be a father?"

My dad's face flushed bright red, then went pale, and he let out a bitter laugh. "What does it matter if you're here? How are you different from those people in the booth? Five years ago, wasn't I drugged and pushed into your bed? You're right; I am foolish. If I weren't, how would I have let you get pregnant with Carolina? If I weren't, how would I have spent five years making formula and changing diapers?"

The night was cool and calm, with only the sound of wind rustling the street-side leaves breaking the silence.

Sylas rushed over, looking frantic. "Carolina, where did you go? I couldn't find you anywhere! I was terrified!"

His eyes were red, and his face and hair were soaked with sweat. Even his clothes were damp.

I shook my head, feeling a bit guilty, and reached out with my little hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

"Mom, Sylas, let's go home."

At that moment, I saw my dad's face grow even paler, almost as if all the color had drained from it.

I didn't call out to my dad because I had just understood something from his words. Perhaps I wasn't brought into this world with his hope.

Without me, maybe he would still be the "big shot," not standing there tonight, facing all this scrutiny.

Maybe if mom is willing to let him go and give back his freedom, I should do the same.