When Gamora saw this, she ran over with her little sister in her arms. Clinging to her father's leg with one hand, she sobbed, "Daddy, please stop hitting Mommy. She really passed out. Waaah..."
But her father kicked her away in disgust. "Get lost. I don't even know if you're my daughter."
Her stepmother smiled smugly.
"Exactly. Who knows if you're a bastard that bitch had with someone else?"
Ignoring the pain, Gamora shook her head.
"No, Daddy. I'm your daughter..."
Her stepmother came over and stamped on Gamora's hand. "Who knows? One look at that little temptress face of yours tells me you're no good!"
Ignoring the pain, Gamora shook her head again and again.
"No, that's not true. I'm Daddy's daughter... I'm Daddy's daughter..."
Her father stood with his foot on her mother's face, his expression vicious. He looked so unfamiliar that it broke her heart.
She had never imagined that all the times she and her mother had backed down and endured would only bring them more pain.
She had always dreamed that her father would treat her mother better. That he would treat her a little better, too.
That was why she wanted to learn to catch fish—her father liked eating them. She had given up school to make handicrafts with her mother and earn money.
But none of that mattered now. Hunger and pain overwhelmed her, and she soon passed out.
She did not know how much time had passed.
When she woke again, her whole body felt cold.
Opening her eyes, she found herself lying among the unmarked graves. Beside her lay her mother, so thin she was little more than bones, and her little sister, who was no longer breathing.
"No..."
She wanted to get up and see whether it was real,