Chapter 4The World Is One Big Fake Show

Lunchtime.

Four people at the table. Me, Ethan, Mom, and... Her.

She looked like a walking explosion of dopamine dressing. A massive ballgown, heavy jewelry, and a towering hat. Not high fashion—just high.

I looked at Luna, who was balancing an eight-layer cake decoration on her head and painted white like a Victorian ghost. My sympathy reached new heights.

Growing up, Mom tried to turn me into a doll. But my mediocrity and laziness always defeated her. Ethan inherited Dad's "death glare," which shut Mom down instantly.

Mom had suppressed her urge for years. Now, the dam had broken.

I watched Luna, who couldn't sit down because of her corset, trying to eat while standing. She tried to take a bite, and lead powder from her face fell into her soup.

Ethan: "It's not Christmas. Why is there a tree at the table?"

Pfft. I laughed.

Mom pouted. "Doesn't she look beautiful? Like a doll..."

Ethan: "Dolls don't need to breathe. She looks like she's about to pass out."

Mom looked guilty and checked on Luna.

I don't know what possessed Luna, but facing Mom's concern, she forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. "No, I'm fine."

"Don't force it," I advised kindly.

She didn't appreciate it. "You wouldn't understand. A parent's love is heavy like a mountain. This isn't a burden; it's the weight of their love!"

As soon as she said "weight of love," a crisp crack echoed in the room.

Luna's expression twisted. She started to shake. Finally, the weight of the eight-layer hat won. She toppled backward with a deafening crash.

Chaos ensued.

Indeed. Parental love is heavy as a mountain.