When I was fifteen, I poured a glass of red wine on my stepmother's wedding dress.
Early the next morning, she placed a pair of 12cm silver high heels next to my pillow - during the sixty days of summer vacation, I would stand in the cobblestone yard every day from six in the morning to nine in the evening. Don't cry, don't stop, don't scream in pain.
The neighbor called her a snake-hearted person, and I hated her to the core of my being.
Until the last day of summer vacation, she let me walk the entire garden wearing those shoes. The moment I took off my shoes, she used a knife to pry open the heel - inside the hollow liner were hidden the bank card and a yellowed note that my mother left behind before she died.
Concept: Hidden in silver high heels is the inheritance and protection of maternal love.