"I’m gonna beat you to death, you useless brat! Tell me now, where’s my gold ring? Where’d you hide it?"

Elaine Porter’s face twisted with rage, and the bamboo stick in her hand lashed down on Megan Graham again and again, every stroke harsher than the last.

Before long, the tiny girl’s bony body was covered in bruises, blue and purple overlapping each other.

Megan trembled all over from the pain. Her big round eyes were teary, but she stubbornly bit her lip, refusing to let the tears fall.

“I didn’t take it,” she said, voice shaking, still sounding like a little kid. “Really, I never touched it. It was Charlie who lost it.”

Six-year-old Charlie, chubby and spoiled, turned bright red when he heard that. He stomped over angrily and kicked Megan hard. “Liar! You just wanted to steal it for candy! You little thief!”

Megan fell hard to the ground, her small palm scraping against the rough concrete. Blood welled up immediately, and her face scrunched up from the burning pain as she gasped softly.

Elaine wasn’t done yet. The bamboo stick left bloody lines across Megan’s thin back.

“You took it. Even Little Flower told me.”

Megan blinked in confusion. “Little Flower? Who’s that?”

“A snake. One of those spotted ones. It saw you grab the ring and head out to trade it for sweets, but you lost it on the way.”

Megan pointed toward a crack in the rocks, where a fat snake with speckles was slowly lifting its head, flicking its tongue, its mouth moving like it was actually talking.

Charlie followed her finger and saw the thick snake, about as wide as a baby’s arm. He jumped and screamed, “Mommy!” and darted behind Elaine in terror.

Elaine had always thought Megan was weird. She’d talk to bugs and ants like they were friends. Even that fierce dog at the village gate wagged its tail around her.

Now, hearing her talk about a snake giving her info, Elaine got chills down her spine. Staring at Megan’s delicate little face, she suddenly found the child kind of eerie.

She had only taken Megan in because of her looks, figuring she’d fetch a good price when she grew up. But at that moment, Elaine started to have second thoughts.

“You say one more word of that nonsense, and I’ll sell you off!” she yelled, kicking Megan so hard the girl flew like a ragdoll.

Megan hit the ground with a thud, a mouthful of blood spilling out.

The mention of being sold terrified her. Charlie, always full of nasty phrases picked up from adults, often used them to scare her.

“If you don’t behave, my mom’s gonna sell you! Rip your eyes out, break your legs, snap your arms! You’ll be a cripple begging in the streets, all blind and gross! They might even cut your kidneys out and leave you in pieces!”

Kids could be even crueler than grown-ups.

Wobbling, bleeding, Megan struggled to her feet. She clutched Elaine’s pants, voice choked with sobs as she pleaded, “Auntie, please don’t sell me. Please... I’ll be good. I swear I’ll be good…”Tears streamed down her face like a broken faucet, her little cheeks smeared with dust and blood, making her look utterly pitiful.

Elaine Porter showed zero sympathy—she kicked her aside without blinking. "Get to the river and do the laundry, now! Keep dawdling and see what happens. You said you know where the gold ring dropped, right? Then you'd better go find it! No dinner for you if you can’t!"

Megan Graham gritted through the pain in her body, struggling to carry a bucket almost as tall as she was, wobbling along toward the river. The bucket was stuffed with the family's dirty clothes.

Mrs. James was passing by and saw the whole thing, her eyes filled with sorrow. She called out, "Megan, come over here for a sec."

Megan froze and didn’t dare lift her head.

"I’m too dirty, Grandma James," she mumbled. "Auntie said I’m filthy and I’ll get you dirty too. I better not come over."

It was late May, and summer had already landed hard on Haicheng.

Megan was in a short-sleeved shirt, her skinny arms covered in angry red welts. Some had even started to bleed.

Elaine’s shouting and hitting had pretty much become the neighborhood background noise.

Mrs. James’s eyes turned red. "I just made some peanut mochi with brown sugar. Want to eat a few before you go wash?"

Megan nervously glanced toward her house, her little body shrinking inward like she was bracing for a storm.

"I can’t… Auntie will yell again. She’ll beat me."

Last time Mrs. James gave her food, Elaine found out and went on a rant that lasted all day.

Megan whispered a thank you, then wobble-walked her bucket of dirty clothes toward the river.

Mrs. James quickly wrapped up a few mochi in a plastic bag and jogged after her, stuffing it into Megan’s tiny hand. "Wait till you’re alone, okay? Find a quiet spot and eat it before heading back. Be good."

Megan’s eyes started to well up.

She knew too well—tonight she'd go to bed hungry again. The mochi was the only warmth her stomach might get.

Lihua Village was buried deep in the mountains, basically cut off from the rest of the world. Life here was tough.

Even doing laundry meant scrubbing by hand—and you had to hike down to the river to do it.

The sun was dipping down when villagers returned from working the fields. Seeing Megan’s scarred arms, many silently cursed Elaine in their hearts.

An old man handed Megan a big handful of wild berries he'd just picked from the mountain.

A woman gave her a few crumpled bills from selling herbs. "Take it, sweetie. Next time the market’s on, buy yourself some candy."

Megan’s eyes were red again, tears falling silently.

Everyone else in the village—every grandma, uncle, neighbor—was so kind to her. So why did her aunt have to be so cruel?

She’d known for a while now—Elaine wasn’t really her aunt. The animals had told her she was picked up from a trash can.

Down by the empty riverbank, Megan bent over scrubbing clothes, her little head hanging low. Just thinking about it—being tossed out like trash—made her chest ache like someone stuffed sour cotton inside it.

Did her real mom and dad hate her that much? Were they that eager to throw her away?No wonder even Auntie doesn't like her.

She made a quiet promise to herself—to be extra good. Maybe then her real parents would regret leaving her behind and one day come back to take her home.

Her stomach growled nonstop. Megan looked around nervously. Elaine Porter was nowhere in sight, and there was no one else nearby. Only then did she pull out the rice cake Mrs. James had secretly given her.

The rice cake was stone cold by now, but she was starving. She stuffed it into her mouth in big gulps, chewing so fast she nearly choked.

She quickly cupped some river water in her palms and gulped it down to help it go down. Only after a few mouthfuls did she finally catch her breath.

Just as she reached for the last rice cake, a scruffy, skinny stray cat locked its eyes on her food. Somehow, Megan could understand what it was thinking.

“So hungry. If I don’t find something soon, my kittens will starve…”

Without thinking, Megan carefully peeled back the wrapping on the last rice cake and placed it on the ground. Her voice was soft and sincere as she said, "Sorry. There's only this one left, but… you can have it."

The cat snatched up the rice cake and darted off like lightning, disappearing in seconds.

Megan rubbed her still-hungry belly, but it didn’t help. She was still starving.

Then her ears perked up. A pair of late-returning birds were chirping loudly in the trees.

"Hey, see him? That guy over there totally looks like he's about to jump off that cliff."

“The beasts down there are already circling—just waiting for him to fall so they can tear him to pieces.”

“Ugh, he’s really skinny though. Don’t think there’ll be much to go around. The wolf pups probably won’t even get a bite.”

Megan’s head shot up.

She knew the place they were talking about: Death Cliff.

Everyone in the village knew it. They said broken bones piled up at the bottom like a graveyard.

People who really couldn't stand their lives anymore didn’t even bother drinking pesticide. They went there.

These days, though, people lived a little better, and stories like that were rare.

But now someone was really gonna jump?

She shot to her feet, spinning in place like a top, her little face red with worry.

Her tiny arms and legs wouldn’t get her far if she ran back to call an adult. It’d be too late.

She paused for barely a second before her face hardened in determination, and she sprinted toward Death Cliff.

She might’ve been little, but climbing was her thing—hands and feet nimble as a monkey.

Most villagers avoided that cliff because they thought it was unlucky. No one went near it. The path was overgrown with weeds and thorny bushes. Soon, her clothes were torn in places, and her arms were streaked with small cuts.

When she finally reached the cliff, she spotted a man standing at the edge.

The setting sun had sunk low into the valley, glowing like a golden egg yolk. Its rays cast a golden halo around the man, like he was wearing a cape made of sunlight.

He was insanely good-looking—so much better than anyone Megan had ever seen.

She didn’t make a sound, lips pressed together, and carefully tiptoed over.

Suddenly, Ethan Hayes turned his head toward her. His eyes were cold, dangerous—chilling. Like a wild animal backed into a corner, ready to strike at anything that dared get close.