Mom spent the whole afternoon preparing a table full of dishes, waiting for Richard Foster to come home for their tenth wedding anniversary.

But instead, he brought back Olivia Grant and her daughter, and told us to move into the guest room.

Mom’s eyes reddened with anger and grief, but Richard locked her away in fury.

“Olivia, from now on, you are the lady of this suburban mansion. This is the home for you and Emily.”

That sentence marked the beginning of my nightmare.

When Richard wasn’t around, Olivia would help her daughter steal my toys, even force me to bark like a dog.

When I refused, they threw me into a wildlife park to “learn a lesson.”

I was bitten by a venomous snake and rushed to the hospital, nearly losing my life.

Richard sneered, “You’ve been pampered since birth, can’t endure the slightest hardship. It’s time you toughened up.”

Before my body even recovered, he dragged me to the hospital again—this time to give blood to Olivia’s daughter.

I clutched at his sleeve. “Daddy, Sophie’s blood is almost gone… Sophie just wants to sleep…”

But he coldly shook me off.

“I told you, call me ‘uncle.’ Emily doesn’t like hearing anyone else call me ‘dad.’ It makes her unhappy.”

Later, I drifted into deep sleep.

And then that man knelt in front of me, his voice hoarse with tears:

“Sophie, Daddy was wrong. Please… open your eyes and look at me just once more…”

…

“Linda Summers, do you really think you’re still the lady of the Foster family?”

“I’ll say it one more time—give Emily Sophie’s room. It has the best sunlight, and Emily likes it.”

Richard’s brows knitted, anger flashing between his eyes.

Just moments before, Mom had worked tirelessly preparing the anniversary dinner.

I had wanted to sneak a bite, but she insisted we wait for Richard.

Yet the moment he walked through the door, he threw the entire table of food into the trash. Plates and ceramic shattered across the floor.

“I told you Olivia is allergic to strawberries. How dare you prepare them for dinner?”

I looked at him in confusion—the man in a sharp suit, tall and commanding.

Everyone said he was a titan in the business world.

But he didn’t even know that his real daughter’s favorite fruit was strawberries.

At that moment, he stood beside that mother and daughter, glaring at me and Mom with disgust, as if they were the real family.

Olivia was the old flame he had chased overseas for years.

Emily was her daughter from her divorce, about five or six years old—about the same age as me.

When I glanced longingly at the strawberries on the floor, she stomped them underfoot twice with cruelty.

She glared at me. “Street rat. Even crushed, you’re not allowed to eat them!”

I froze.

The next second, Emily smirked and hurled the mashed strawberries straight into my face.

Mom pulled me protectively into her arms, her eyes cold as she glared back. “Apologize.”

Emily scoffed, her nose practically pointing to the sky.

Mom tightened her grip on my hand and repeated firmly, “Apologize to my daughter.”

Emily suddenly shrieked, “Daddy! The mean woman bullied me!”

Richard’s brows furrowed as he bent down to scoop her up.

“Daddy won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Then he looked up coldly. “Linda, are you really picking fights with a child?”

“Emily is just a little mischievous. Kids love to play—it’s in their nature. Do you think everyone has to be like your daughter Sophie, some stiff block of wood?”

Mom’s whole body trembled. I felt miserable too.

Richard never liked me. Other kids had their dads at parent-teacher meetings, but he never once showed up for mine.

I always thought it was because I hadn’t done well enough—that I had upset him somehow.

By accident, I once overheard him say he liked obedient children.

So I tried my best to be quiet and cautious in front of him, but that only made me “a block of wood.”

No matter what I did, he and Mom both seemed doomed to be objects of his dislike.

“Richard, my daughter and I waited half the day for you. What does it mean that you’ve brought them back here?”

Mom, who had been silently holding back tears, finally burst out.

“Didn’t you once promise me you’d cut ties with Olivia Grant?”

“This is our home. Our daughter is still here. This isn’t some hotel!”

“Anyone who didn’t know better would think Olivia was just some woman you picked up outside.”

Her sarcasm made Richard’s face darken instantly.

“Say that again if you dare.”

It looked as if they were about to fight.

Olivia stepped forward, feigning gentleness.

“Richard, don’t fight with Linda. Don’t let me come between you two.”

“It’s my fault and Emily’s. We just returned to the States and had nowhere to stay. One night on your couch would have been enough.”

Richard’s face softened with pity.

“How could I let you sleep on the couch? Even if you don’t mind, I won’t let Emily suffer.”

“No matter what, you two will sleep in the master bedroom tonight.”

I pressed my lips tightly together, watching the tender bond between them. So, sleeping on a couch was suffering?

Then what about when Richard thought I was disobedient, and punished me by making me sleep in the dog kennel?

But Mom always worried about me. I never dared say anything.

Olivia didn’t refuse again and went upstairs with him toward the master bedroom.

As she turned back, she flashed a triumphant smile.

“Linda, sorry for the trouble, but you’ll have to take the guest room tonight.”

Then she winked at her daughter. “Go to Daddy. He’ll tell you a bedtime story.”

Emily ran over and hugged Richard’s leg.

“Daddy!”

He immediately smiled indulgently, stroked her head, and scooped her into his arms.

“Of course, my little princess. How about a bedtime story? Want to hear Snow White?”

I stared enviously as they disappeared upstairs.

Ever since I could remember, my dream had been to hear my dad tell me a bedtime story.

Even if he didn’t tell one—even just quietly tucking me in would have been enough.

But even that had become a luxury.

Seeing my tears fall, Mom pulled me close and cried too.

“I’m sorry, Sophie. It’s all my fault…”

I wiped her tears and whispered, “No, Sophie doesn’t blame Mom. It’s Daddy… Daddy is the one who’s wrong…”

That night, Mom packed our suitcases, determined to take me away.

But as we reached the door, Olivia’s sobbing voice drifted down from upstairs.

“Richard, I never meant to ruin your marriage. I don’t know why this happened. I only came to stay one night, but your wife is making a scene, threatening to leave. Isn’t she just embarrassing me?”

Richard’s gaze turned icy as he looked toward us.

“Linda, stop right there!”

He stormed over and kicked our suitcase to the ground.

Then he barked at Mom:

“Olivia wants a late-night snack. Go make it.”

Mom bit her lip so hard it nearly bled, but she didn’t move.

“Richard, I’m your wife, not your maid.”

He let out a cold laugh.

“Linda, what makes you think you’re worthy of being my wife?”

“Have you forgotten how you clawed your way into my bed and became Mrs. Foster?”

I stared at him in fear, praying he wouldn’t say more.

Sure enough, when I looked up, Mom’s face was pale as death.

No—it wasn’t true.

Grandma once told me the truth.

Richard had been drunk that night and mistook Mom for his old flame.

She hadn’t resisted.

That night, I was conceived.

Richard agreed to marry her, to “take responsibility,” but in his heart, he never forgot another woman.

So whenever they fought, he dredged up the past—claiming Mom had seduced him and deliberately kept me.

That was why he hated her, and by extension, hated me too.

In recent years, he traveled abroad frequently.

Because overseas, there was always Olivia waiting in his thoughts.

Last month, Olivia divorced her foreign husband and came back with Emily. Richard smiled like I’d never seen before.

But now, watching Mom resist, his expression turned dark, his tone threatening.

“I’ll ask you one last time—are you making that snack or not?”

“No.”

Mom lifted her chin, clinging to her pride.

“Fine. Very well.”

Richard gave a thin smile and ordered the security guards to lock her in the basement.

“If you’re of no use in this house, then you can rot down there like a sewer rat. When you’ve learned your lesson, I’ll let you out.”

That night, I cried and begged, nearly on my knees.

“Mom knows she was wrong, please don’t lock her away…”

But Richard kicked me aside.

I collapsed on the floor, clutching Mom’s leg, sobbing for her not to go.

As she was dragged away, she knelt down and gently handed me an empty box.

“Don’t cry, Sophie. You know how to fold paper stars, right?”

“When you fill this box, I’ll come back to get you. I’ll take you to Grandma’s.”

I clutched the box tightly and nodded.

“Mom, you promised. I’ll wait for you to come.”

But after that night, I never saw her again.

Olivia and her daughter became the new mistresses of the mansion.

Whenever Richard wasn’t home, Olivia dropped her act and openly tormented me.

The doll I loved—if Emily wanted it, it was hers.

The pretty dresses Mom had carefully picked out for me—because Emily didn’t like them, the housekeeper cut them to shreds.

Emily sneered down at me. “Trash like you should dress like a beggar.”

I endured it all silently.

I held onto the half-filled box of paper stars, counting the days until Mom came back.

But this time, Emily burned them on purpose.

Then she struck me hard.

A liquor bottle smashed across my body. I barely felt the pain anymore—my only instinct was to shield what little remained of those paper stars.

They were the last gift Mom had left me.

She had promised: once the box was full, she would come take me home.

But then I felt warm liquid running down my face—my head had been split open.

As I fell unconscious, I saw Richard’s polished shoes stop in front of me.

I forced a weak smile. “Daddy, I wasn’t bad…”

And Emily burst into loud sobs.