The Gilded Cage

"Mm!"

"Pinky promise—cross my heart, no take-backs for a hundred years!"

…

The exhibition hall wasn’t officially open to the public yet.

Only a select few with special invitations were allowed in today.

Samuel and I carefully wiped the dust off the picture frames with cloths.

Not far away, a gentle female voice drifted over.

"Anna, this is a piece by the renowned painter Mr. Tobias. If you like it, I will buy it for you, alright?"

Hearing that familiar name, my body went rigid.

I turned and saw my daughter, Anna Sterling.

She was dressed in a layered princess gown, the delicate tulle cascading like blooming petals. A dazzling eight-carat diamond hairpin shimmered in her hair.

Her arm was looped through Scarlett’s, their closeness undeniable.

"Thank you, Miss Snow. We already have three of Mr. Tobias’s paintings at home. This time, I’d like to see more realist art instead."

Around her stood three or four other children—her friends, all from the same wealthy circle.

It felt as if they knew I would be here.

Scarlett lifted her head, meeting my gaze, a slow, malicious smile spreading across her lips.

Then, in the next second, she deliberately raised her voice and pointed at the painting behind me.

"Anna, what do you think of that one?"

My heart clenched.

I instinctively lifted a hand, wanting to shield my face.

I had never been ashamed of doing physical labor.

However, in front of Anna and her friends, I wanted to preserve at least a shred of dignity.

“Don’t look at me. Please don’t look at me. Please… don’t let my daughter see me like this,” I prayed in silence, but heaven did not listen.

Like a slow-motion scene from a film, Anna turned her head inch by inch—her gaze landing on me.

Scarlett covered her mouth in exaggerated surprise, her tone laced with feigned shock.

"Anna, that janitor looks just like your mother."

Anna’s eyes swept over me—over the cleaning uniform and the cloth in my hand.

Her gaze didn’t linger for even a second.

Without hesitation, she turned away and said, "That’s not my mother. I’ve already told you that my mother is dead."

A deafening roar filled my ears.

The world spun, and I nearly lost my balance.

A sharp edge on the metal frame sliced across my palm, and blood instantly seeped into my skin.

Scarlett laughed.

She pinched Anna’s soft, delicate cheek, smiling sweetly.

"Then what kind of new mommy does little Anna want?"

Anna wrapped her arms around Scarlett, nuzzling into her as she murmured sweetly, "Of course, I want a mommy like you, Miss Snow—smart, beautiful, and always there to play with me."

It felt as if a hand had reached inside my body, squeezing my heart over and over again, then hurling it into a vat of boiling oil.

The searing pain of it shattered me so completely that I could no longer even feel the wound on my palm.

The daughter I carried for ten months, whose birth torn through my body as I screamed in agony for an entire day and night.

The daughter I held in my arms, enduring the raw, cracked pain of nursing, feeding her with my own blood and milk.

The daughter I cradled through countless sleepless nights, gently humming lullabies to lull her to sleep.

Now, she cursed me dead and clung to another woman, calling her "Mommy" with unshaken devotion.

Suddenly, a small, dark figure shot forward like a whirlwind.

Samuel lunged at Anna, knocking her to the ground.

His voice rang out, furious and unyielding.

"Your mother is right here! How can you not see her?!"