"Ha!" Xiangxiang laughed in exasperation once more. She pointed at one of the women with sunburned, skeletal frames and asked, "Where is your home?"
The woman held her child tightly, her lips pressed firmly together. Her eyes reflected a struggle, pain evident, and finally, without sparing Xiangxiang another glance, she bowed her head.
"I... I'm from the neighboring village."
The voice seemed to emerge from deep in her throat.
The woman closed her eyes, a tear trickling down.
She had given up—the chance for freedom was gone.
For the child.
For the child she had carried and painfully given birth to after ten months.
She couldn't leave this place. The man had already threatened her; if she dared to leave, he would immediately buy another woman. Then, with a new mother, there would be a new father. Once another child came, this child would be left to fend for itself.
