Summer, 1995. The family compound of Cixin Pharmaceutical Factory, Donghai City. Victor Preston, the factory's deputy secretary, lived here with his family.
Morning sunlight sliced through the living room windows, falling on a lonely little slipper. The light swept over a bent clothes hanger, a few strands of loose hair, and glinted off two jars on the table—Yulan Oil and Peking Cream. A pink shirt lay half on the sofa, half trailing toward the bathroom.
Inside, Chloe Preston lay face-down on the cold floor. Her little body barely moved as she gasped for air, just managing to breathe again when her mother’s frantic voice broke from behind the closed bedroom door. “Honey, I think I messed up… I hit Chloe too hard. She’s not breathing anymore.”
"...She’s really gone. It's been two hours. Her body’s cold..." Nora Preston choked back sobs.
"You always say I’ve got a temper, that I’m too harsh. Well, what about her? She talks back and refuses to say where she hid those silver coins! And stealing David’s chocolate liquor? Who else should I take it out on if not her?" Nora’s voice cracked as she cried. “Please, come back home. We need to figure this out. Together.”
Once the call ended, the sharp click of leather shoes echoed down the hallway. On the bathroom floor, Chloe shuddered and twitched in fear.
It was still Nora’s voice. "David, baby, time to get up. Mommy's taking you to Grandma’s to watch TV."
The boy groaned, cranky. “Don’t wanna. I'm tired.”
Nora coaxed sweetly, “Grandma bought you Vigor Boost, Yummy Fruit, and Sun Biscuits. You can snack and watch cartoons, isn’t that awesome?”
He finally stirred. “Then you have to carry me.”
The door slammed. High heels clicked away down the corridor. Back in the bathroom, Chloe slowly pushed herself upright.
Dried blood from her nose crusted down to her chin. She staggered to the sink, knocking over a bottle of Lux shampoo before turning on the faucet. Warm water rushed into her nose, her mouth—and suddenly overflowed from her eyes. The sticky blood washed away from her face.
She stumbled out, fingers dragging across the white-painted wall, leaving behind four faint red smudges. She wiped her hands clean and threw on that pink shirt, not quite new, not yet old.
Buttoning it took everything out of her.
She slid down to the floor, breathing deeply.
Air. Water. Such normal, everyday things—but at this moment, to her, they were everything.
...
Chloe had died once already.
Just two hours ago, around five in the morning, Nora beat the breath out of her during a trip to the bathroom.
From above, Chloe’s drifting soul saw her little body—motionless—and her panicked mother crying, breathing into her mouth.
And then came visions of what was yet to happen.
She saw her dad return home early, scheming with her mom about what to do. She saw him don gloves, grab a huge pair of pliers, cut the water heater’s cord and place it on her body. Her skin turned yellow… some spots blackened and even smoked.
Then came the cops. She saw Nora screaming she'd jump from the building. Neighbors yelling at her, condemning. Nora cried hard, holding Chloe’s body.
Back then, Chloe thought it meant Nora loved her.
She thought, maybe it was just a horrible accident, and her mom was devastated.
But later, once the cops and neighbors left, she saw something else.
Saw Nora dry her eyes, calmly shrug and say, “It’s not like Chloe was really ours. So what if she’s dead? We still have David.”
And then her father’s cold voice: “Now that she’s gone, how are we going to find the silver coins?”
That’s when Nora actually broke down again. “If we can’t get the coins, we’ll never get the money… and without money, forget taking over the factory.”
They weren’t mourning her.
They didn’t care she died.
They only cared about the coins.It suddenly clicked for Chloe Preston—turns out, in her mom’s eyes, she wasn’t even worth a couple of silver coins.
As long as she stayed alive, her mom would keep hounding her to find them.
Sure, she was Victor and Nora Preston’s daughter, but she’d grown up in the countryside. It wasn’t until her grandma passed away three months ago that her dad finally brought her to the city.
Back then, she’d thought losing Grandma meant she’d get more love—from her dad, her mom, and her little brother.
She actually believed life would finally get better.
But now, Chloe got it. The ones who were truly a family were her parents and her brother.
Like Grandma used to say, because she was a girl, she never really belonged—no one was ever gonna love her.
Alone and scared, Chloe hugged herself tightly, sinking into a heavy fear that swallowed her whole.
Time ticked by. She knew how this would go—her mom would be back any minute.
And when she came, she’d demand to know where the silver coins were. But Chloe had no idea. She’d already told her everything she knew, and her mom still didn’t believe her.
So… she’d probably beat her again. Maybe even to death.
Chloe wasn’t scared of dying. She was scared of pain. Always had been. Ever since she could remember, she couldn’t handle it.
She just didn’t want to be hurt anymore. It was too much.
All of a sudden, loud footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, the banging getting closer. The little girl squeezed into herself, slammed her eyes shut.
And then, like flipping through a dream, memories came rushing back.
After she died, she’d seen a couple and three tall young men show up in her mind.
They seemed like a family. Together, they’d smiled gently at her.
Even though Chloe had never met them before, in that moment, she somehow knew their names. It was like a piece of her already belonged there.
Grandma had said that when a person was about to die, all their loved ones would come to say goodbye.
She said to take a good look—because that’d be the last time.
Chloe was only five, still a baby. She dreamed all sorts of things, but she couldn’t make sense of them yet.
All she really knew was this—she was supposed to die, and yet somehow, she didn’t.
Her will to live kicked in, gears turning in her tiny head.
And then she remembered—one of those tall boys, she’d seen him in real life.
She thought and thought, then suddenly—
A voice outside shouted, “Come on, let’s go play ball!”
Chloe snapped her eyes open wide. It hit her then.
One of the young men from her dreams lived right here, in the housing complex. He always carried this huge backpack and played basketball near the court.
And based on what she knew from that dream, he was one of her big brothers.
Could she go find him?
If she begged him for help, would he actually protect her?
There was no more time to hesitate. Her mom would be back any moment.
Stumbling to her feet, Chloe looked around the house one last time. Bitterness rose in her chest.
She’d wanted so badly to live here, with her parents.
But now, to stay alive, she had no choice but to run.
…
Nora Preston was panicking.
All she did was hit Chloe with a hanger and punch her once—how the heck did the kid just… stop breathing?
She felt awful, yeah. Regretful too. But she didn't want her son to see anything he shouldn't, so she forced herself to pull it together and took him back to her mom’s.
Her footsteps were all over the place as she rushed back.
She’d barely made it to the building when Mrs. Harper from the second floor startled her.
“Hey, Nora, is Chloe sick or something? The kid looked pale as a ghost.”
Nora nearly had a heart attack. “Where is she?!”
“She walked toward the basketball court… Nora, don’t take this the wrong way, but you really favor your boy way too much. Take it from me—daughters are like little jackets in the winter, warm and soft…”
What the hell? Chloe was alive?
Why would she go to the court—was she nuts?
Nora spun around and bolted after her.The basketball court buzzed with energy as a bunch of boys chased after the ball under the morning sun.
A skinny little girl slowly walked over, her oversized shirt puffed out in the wind like a balloon. She scanned the boys one by one.
They were running too fast, their faces too blurry. She stepped a bit closer to get a better look.
Each step felt like a mountain.
Just then, a hand yanked her back—hard.
"Mom! It hurts! Stop!" Chloe cried out, her voice trembling.
Nora Preston was panicking. She had no idea how a kid who’d gone cold for two hours just came back to life.
Was it some kind of fluke? What if the girl suddenly dropped dead again right here?
But Chloe was struggling wildly, her shrieks loud enough to wake the dead. Nora scooped her up, only for the girl to start kicking her legs furiously.
She was only five, but somehow had the strength of someone twice her size. She threw her head back and nailed Nora straight in the nose, stars exploding behind her eyes. A sharp smack landed on Chloe’s bottom.
The poor thing, already pale as a ghost, rolled her eyes and went limp in Nora’s arms.
The boy holding the basketball turned around. “Ma’am, what’s wrong with the girl?”
The rest stopped playing and stared too.
"Help me! Brother, help!" The girl sucked in a breath and shouted again, louder this time.
“Ma’am, what happened to her?” another boy asked.
“She’s sick,” Nora said, slapping her hand over Chloe’s mouth. “I’m taking her home for medicine.” She spun around to leave.
But right then, a boy stepped right into her path. Pale-skinned, tall and lean, with a backpack on, he stared straight at Nora.
She tried to sidestep him, grumbling under her breath, “Brat, keep this up and I might actually kill you…”
The boy’s brow crinkled. He wasn’t planning to get involved.
Until one of the other boys piped up, “Ma’am, I heard you hitting Chloe the other day too. Why you always hitting her?”
Nora’s heart dropped. She had been hitting the girl a lot lately. People in the complex must be catching on. If this kept up…
She tried to dodge around him, but the boy moved too, blocking her again. And again.
They were about to bump into each other when the boy suddenly reached out.
Was he trying to take the child?
Nora shielded Chloe, swatted at the boy’s arm. “Get out of my way.”
“You hit her!” the boy said flatly.
“She’s my daughter. I’m disciplining her. Haven’t you ever gotten smacked as a kid?” Nora laughed coldly.
She was fed up. Nosy brats, every one of them.
“She passed out just now. Can’t breathe properly like that, she could die. That’s almost manslaughter, you know?” the boy snapped.
Another kid rushed in to take Chloe from her.
Nora didn’t expect that. She swung, slapping wildly. “This is my kid! I brought her into this world. If I wanna beat her, that’s my business! Even the cops wouldn’t care—who the hell do you think you are?”
The boy ducked, she clawed after him, and before long, they were tangled up in a mess on the ground.
While Nora flailed and scratched, the boy behind her grabbed her wrist, flipped her over, and slammed her to the ground.
"Hel—" Her scream cut off as a bony knee dug into her back. He twisted her arm so hard it cracked and popped like dry wood.
Pain exploded through her. Black spots danced in her vision. Air refused to come.
Her face scraped against the rough grit of the court, burning with every tug. The boy’s knee dug down harder.
"You think just because she’s your kid, you can beat her to death? You think the law won’t care?" His voice was tight with anger. "You kill someone, you pay for it—got it?"
The sound of bones creaking filled the quiet court, brutal and sharp.
From somewhere behind him came a small, trembly voice: "Brother!"
