Then Hina realized her mother had left her there, in that condition. Alone. In pain.
At first, she didn't understand why. But slowly, day by day, she learned how to live in pain.
She got up slowly, weakly but still, she got up.
Earlier, when her father had thrown her, her hand had been injured. Blood was dripping, just a little, but it stung. She held her hand tightly, but the pain only grew.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but no one was there to hear her cry.
No one was there to care.
She walked to her bed, step by step, her legs shaking. Then she lay down on her side, facing the wall, hugging her injured hand close to her chest.
And there
She cried.
Softly at first. Then harder.
But still, no one came.
That night, around 8 p.m., heavy rain poured outside. The sky rumbled like it shared her pain. Inside her room, things were no better. The ceiling leaked from many places, water dripping down endlessly. Her small bed was soaked water even fell from above it.
She couldn't sleep. Not even rest.
Just like every other day, she waited, afraid.
Her father came home. But today, he wasn't drunk. He wasn't angry.
Still—Hina trembled. Every night at this time, he beat her.
She heard him call from outside her room,
"Hina, come here."
She froze.
But then she thought, If I go quickly, maybe... maybe he won't beat me.
So, with small careful steps, she went out.
She saw him. Smiling.
Holding food.
"Come on, honey," he said, his voice gentle. "I brought food for you."
He showed her the meal—
Something she had never even tasted in her life.
In the kitchen, her mother stopped in shock. She watched in silence, not believing what she was seeing.
Her father placed the food on the dinner table and sat down.
"Hina," he said again, "Come here, honey. I won't beat you. Look what I brought for you."
Still afraid, she slowly stepped forward.
When he gently touched her arm to guide her to the chair, her body felt hot.
He stopped. "Honey, you have a fever. Before eating, you should take medicine, okay?"
He poured her a glass of water and gave her the medicine carefully.
Then, he took out an injection.
Hina's eyes widened. Her heart raced.
But he smiled again. "Don't be afraid, honey. I won't hurt you. I promise."
For the first time…
Her father called her "honey.
For the first time, her father looked at her like she mattered.
She wanted to believe him. She didn't want to make him angry again.
So, with trembling hands, she offered her arm.
He gave her the injection, then helped her eat slowly.
After she finished, he carried her in his arms, walked to her room, and gently laid her on the bed.
"Good night, honey," he whispered. "I'll sleep in my room. You rest here, okay?"
And then
He left.
That Night...
Her mother was cleaning the dining table when her hand brushed against a small bottle. It clattered to the floor.
She bent down to pick it up—curious.
It wasn't fever medicine.
Her heart dropped.
It was an illegal injection. A growth enhancer used to unnaturally force physical development.
She knew this drug. It aged children's bodies… while their minds remained untouched.
A twisted, cruel thing meant only for those with dark intentions.
Her hands trembled.
"No… no, no…" she whispered.
And then—
A shadow loomed.
He stood behind her. Her husband.
He had seen everything.
"Why?" she screamed, her voice shaking. "Why would you do this to her?! She's just a child!"
Tears streamed down her face. "You've taken everything from me! My dignity, my freedom—and now her?! She's my daughter!"
He grabbed her hand tightly, his expression cold, cruel.
"You want to know why?" he hissed. "Because you're getting old. Men don't want you anymore. They don't pay like they used to."
She froze. Her breath caught.
"But her… they will. Once she grows fast, once she looks older—they'll pay anything. I'll decide the price. I'll own them all. No bargaining. No loss."
Her mouth trembled. "Please… don't take her freedom… please don't destroy her…"
He shoved her, hard. She fell to the floor.
"You say one word… one single word," he growled, "and I won't kill you.
I'll kill her. Right in front of your eyes. You understand?"
She sobbed on the cold floor, helpless. Powerless.
Hina slept, unaware that the innocence left in her life was already being sold.
Her mother was still on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. Powerless.
She wanted to fight, to scream, to protect her daughter…
But she couldn't.
If she tried, he would kill Hina.
She had no choice. And that was the cruelest part.
Midnight.
Heavy rain still poured outside, tapping against the broken glass window.
Hina's eyes opened slowly.
There it was again—that sound. A faint creak, the soft murmur of voices.
She sat up, dizzy from the fever, but her curiosity pulled her forward.
Carefully, she slipped off the bed. Her tiny feet landed on the cold, wet floor.
She tiptoed to the door and gently pulled it open, just a crack.
Through the gap, she saw him.
Her father.
He was stepping out of his room, holding a bundle of cash in his hand. But his face… it wasn't calm. His mood was sour, frustrated.
Then another figure stepped out from the same room.
Hina's eyes narrowed.
It wasn't the same man from before. He looked different. His clothes, his voice, everything about him felt colder.
Her father's voice dropped low. "This is less than what I need."
The man scoffed. "For that, this much is already more than enough. If you want more, don't call me again."
Her father quickly nodded. "Okay, okay. I won't ask next time. Just… come again. I'll make it better."
The man left the house without another word, vanishing into the rain.
Hina's heart pounded. She didn't understand everything…
But she knew something was wrong.
From inside the other room, she heard it.
Her mother. Crying.
Again.
She slowly closed the door, her tiny fingers trembling.
And in that moment, Hina realized something.
Her father wasn't just cruel.
He was selling her mother.
For money.