I started doing all the housework and eating leftovers, only eating well when my father was home.
Back then, my father still cared for me. Knowing I wasn't eating enough, he often gave me pocket money.
Later, I was sent to a boarding school.
The time I had a high fever, my teacher called my parents to take me to the hospital.
"We have little kids at home. I'm afraid he might infect us. It's better not to let her come back this weekend."
I cried to my father, but he indifferently said, "Don't be so dramatic. Why don't you know how to consider me and your stepmother? It's just a fever. Just take some medicine."
From that day on, I knew my father had changed.
I once thought I would never get married until I met Zach.
He always put me first. Even a small cut would make him want to rush me to the hospital.
After many minor matters, I gave my heart to Zach. Unexpectedly, in the end, he still discarded it ruthlessly.
I touched my stomach.
I didn't want my child to go through this pain.
The following day, I went to the hospital.
Because of my poor health, the doctors required me to be admitted for an examination first.
Zach somehow found out I was there for an abortion and quickly found my ward.