Chapter 3
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From that day on, I ran the diner during the day and worked at a nightclub at night. After all, bottle commissions and tips for entertaining customers could add up.
The nightclub guests were always fond of getting physical, but knowing that opening another bottle meant more money, I just swallowed my frustration.
“What’s a little groping, after all? As long as it could help Calista get through college,” I told myself. It was worth it.
the
“What are you spacing out for? Toast Leon!”
The man’s voice snapped me back to the moment.
འཇར་ན་ ད
Leon was sitting in front of me, shirtless, with a thick gold chain around his neck. He was drunk and bloated, his greasy face twisted into a lecherous grin as his eyes roamed over me.
“Come on, sweetheart. Sit on my lap… Hehe..”
Before I could react, he yanked me toward him, pulling me into his chest.
I panicked, struggling free with all my strength.
“Le… Leon… I’m just here to serve drinks…”
“The hell you are! Don’t play the innocent with me–get over here!”
Embarrassed in front of his lackeys, Leon’s face darkened with rage.
“Leon… I’m sorry. I’ll drink this one as an apology… I really am…” Just as I raised my glass to make amends, Leon stepped toward me again–this
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time with clear intent to force himself on me.
His lackeys whooped and cheered like it was a show.
“Yeah! Go, Leon! Put that slut in her place!”
“Exactly! She dressed like that for a reason! Go, Leon!”
Years of physical labor had made me strong. With all my strength, I shoved Leon off me and fled. But before I could get far, a bottle came crashing down on my head.
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Pain exploded through my skull. Everything went black as I collapsed to the ground.
Warm blood spilled down my forehead in thick streams.
“Oh no! She’s dead!” One of the other hostesses screamed, frozen in horror at the sight of me lying motionless.
Chaos erupted. Sirens followed soon after. The police came and hauled everyone in.
To avoid prison time, Leon offered a settlement. At first, I didn’t want it- why should someone like him get to walk free just because he had money?
But then I thought of Calista’s tuition–how much it cost, how badly she wanted to go. So I gave in.
“I want money. A lot of it.”
I wiped the blood from my eyes, my voice trembling with fear yet laced with a trace of resolve.
After receiving the compensation, I chose to return to working as a
hostess, hoping to ease the financial burden on my family.
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It took an entire month for the wound on my forehead to heal, but it left behind a thin, pale scar.
Standing in front of the mirror, I gently traced it with my fingertips. Then, I walked into a tattoo parlor and had a blood–red rose inked right over the
scar.
Long hours–sometimes more than ten hours each day–of entertaining guests took their toll. My health declined rapidly, and after a bout of gastric bleeding landed me in the emergency room, I finally quit the job.
My siblings hadn’t yet built lives of their own. I couldn’t afford to fall–not
yet.
***
Calista watched the video in shock, her eyes widening as a liquor bottle struck her sister in the head. Blood splattered across the floor, blooming into a pool of searing red.
Her hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
“She… earned my tuition money like that?” Her voice cracked, barely holding together. “Harry, you told me-
Harry’s face darkened. “That day, two stacks of cash showed up in my backpack out of nowhere… I thought…”
On the screen, I reached out with a trembling, blood–soaked hand. “Two thousand dollars… and I’ll drop the charges.”
My bloodstained cheek stood in stark contrast to the pale clarity of my skin.
The second scene of that memory hit my siblings like a blow.
But prejudice is a mountain–immense and hard to climb.
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“Let’s not forget–she did kill Mom and Dad. Who knows–maybe she’s just a natural–born slut.”
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