I cleared half the wardrobe for Aimo, but she had very few clothes, only a few sets of spring outfits. My bed was small, she said she could sleep on the floor, but Dad insisted on buying her a bed, because "sleeping on the floor for a long time wouldn't be comfortable."

The small bed Aimo slept in was bought with me accompanying her, and the money was given by Mom.

Before buying the bed, I went to Youyoumei supermarket to ask Mom for money. I wasn't sure if I was confused, uneasy, or irritated and angry.

"Then what do you want Mom to do?" Mom was sharpening a knife. That bone-cutting knife gleamed coldly and looked extremely sharp.

"Refuse! She could rent a place." I stepped aside.

"Brother Jun wanted to help her rent a place, but I disagreed."

"Why?"

"It's better for her to stay here." Mom's face was expressionless, but the speed of sharpening the knife increased, the "swish swish" sound made my heart sink. I thought Mom was referring to Dad with that statement.

Just like that, Aimo moved in. Dad cared for her meticulously every day, they went out and came back together. Mom turned a blind eye and went about her routine, starting and ending the day, cooking, washing clothes, everything as usual.

Unexpectedly, I slowly became happy.

Aimo seemed like my talisman. After she came, my parents no longer beat me. The bruises on my body faded, and I didn't have to sneak in and out like a mouse anymore. Occasionally, I could even have a meal with my parents and Aimo. I almost deluded myself into thinking that life finally returned to "normal." Because of this, I was full of gratitude towards Aimo.

She was also good to me, always coming to chat, mostly about Mom.

She was very interested in everything about Mom, asking this and that, especially about Mom's life before I was born—

Mom's work, friends, experiences, etc. It wasn't that I didn't want to answer, but I genuinely didn't know. Mom felt like a familiar stranger.

I asked Aimo about her mother too. Aimo told me that her mother had disappeared when she was just over a year old, but her memories of her mother were vivid and lively.

"Hey, this." Aimo took out a scanned photo from her phone.

"So beautiful!" In the photo, a woman in a white dress stood among the flowers, dazzling like the sun.

"My dad took it. He was like my mom's fan," Aimo's smile resembled her mother's, her eyes shining, "He not only took many photos but also wrote diaries, recorded everything, especially my mom's two pregnancies, even more detailed than medical records."

"Two pregnancies?"

"Mom was almost due when she disappeared, 35 weeks."