Trapped at school in a torrential downpour, I begged Dad to come pick me up. But he mocked me over the phone. “I can’t row a boat. What do you expect me to do if I come?” “A Nian is sick, and I have to look after her. Stop bothering me.” A classmate beside me overheard and asked, “Is A Nian your mom?” I forced a bitter smile. “She’s a dog my family owns.” Later, I was swept away by the flood. My body was never found. But Dad’s hair turned white overnight.
