My Daughter, the Killer App

We were sitting down for a family dinner.

Out of nowhere, six-year-old Lily plunged her hand straight into the scalding hot pot.

Tears streamed down her face as she begged me, "Mommy, my hand hurts! I can't make any more videos…"

"Please, don't hit me anymore, Mommy! I'll be good—I promise!"

My husband, Mark, completely lost it.

He snatched my phone.

His face went pale as he saw it was filled with pictures of Lily.

He beat me until I was black and blue, then snarled that if I ever pulled something like that again, he'd kill me.

Later, when he had to leave for a business trip, Lily clung to his leg, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Daddy, don't go! If you leave, Mommy will have me kidnapped! She'll break my legs and cut out my tongue!"

Everyone brushed it off as a child's wild imagination.

But not long after, Lily's legs were broken.

Her tongue was cut out.

She managed to scrawl something on the floor in her own blood:

"Mommy did it. She wants to kill me."

Mark flew into a rage and nearly beat me to death.

His parents finally talked him into divorcing me.

I was left with nothing.

Bleeding and broken, I stumbled into the streets, where a pack of wild dogs eventually tore me apart.

Then—I woke up.

I was back in that moment.

The moment Lily first lied about me.

"Mommy, can we have hot pot tonight?"

Lily's sweet, innocent voice rang in my ears.

A chill shot down my spine.

I met her gaze.

Her eyes were cold—like a cat toying with a dying mouse.

And I?

I was the mouse.

Ice flooded my veins.

Last time, I'd given in.

I made the hot pot.

That was all the opportunity she needed to hurt herself and pin it on me.

I could still feel those dogs tearing into me.

Every part of my body ached, but the deepest pain was in my heart.

She was my own daughter.

Why would she lie like that?

Why did she want to destroy me?

"My sweet girl wants hot pot? Grandma will go get it for you!"

My mother-in-law scooped Lily into her arms, smothering her with kisses.

I took a steadying breath and forced a smile.

"Mom, Lily had diarrhea at school today. Maybe we should stick to something lighter for dinner?"

That set Lily off.

She started shrieking, "Mommy's lying! She says I'm a burden! I don't deserve good food!"

Then, through fake sobs, she cried, "She said she's gonna break my legs and cut out my tongue! Waaah!"

She buried her face in my mother-in-law's shoulder.

My father-in-law lowered his newspaper. "Your mother almost died bringing you into this world! Show some gratitude! What nonsense are you spouting?"

Lily clung tighter to Grandma. "I'm not lying, Grandma! I don't want to be kidnapped! Help me!"

My mother-in-law cooed, "Don't you worry, sweetheart, Grandma's here."

She shot my father-in-law a look. "Paul, don't shout at her. She's just a child. We know she doesn't mean it."

Then she turned to me. "Alright, no hot pot. Honey, why don't you run to the store and pick up some groceries?"

I was about to agree when I caught the smirk on Lily's face.

I remembered: last time, that quick grocery run gave her the perfect opening to accuse me of meeting kidnappers.

Soon after, everyone discovered strange numbers in my call history.

I grabbed my phone.

"Mom, it's raining. I'll just order online."

Disappointment flickered across Lily's face. She bit her lip.

I smiled inwardly.

No hot pot.

No leaving the house.

Let's see what she tries now.

That evening, Mark came home.

We sat down to a peaceful family dinner.

Mark complimented my cooking, and his parents joined in praising the meal.

But my eyes were on Lily.

She kept glancing around, as if plotting something.

I checked the time.

Two minutes until the moment she'd thrust her hand into the pot last time.

I'd already scoured my phone's gallery—no suspicious photos.

I allowed myself a small breath of relief.

I wasn't going to let her win this time.