Chapter 393

Maya White had changed recently.

Frank Harris squatted at the village entrance, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he squinted into the distance. The gossip from the village busybuzzes buzzed in his ears like flies.

"Heard Maya's been cozy with that mountain goods dealer, David Zhao..."

"Just yesterday, I saw them in the cornfield..."

He flung the cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it under his heel. His luck had been rotten lately, leaving him drowning in debt. The loan sharks hounded him daily, forcing him to avoid his own home.

"Frank, how about..." The loan shark, Walter Taylor, rubbed his hands together with a sly grin. "You hand over your wife instead?"

Frank's eyes lit up.

Maya, that barren hen, was just wasting food anyway. He calculated—this would clear his debts and squeeze another dowry payment from the Whites.

"Deal!"

That night, Frank came home uncharacteristically bearing liquor and food. Maya stiffened at the stove when she saw him.

"Sweetheart, let's have a drink tonight." His smile was greasy.

Three rounds in, Frank finally revealed his hand: "Walter's coming for you tomorrow."

The bowl in Maya's hands shattered on the floor.

"Frank Harris! Are you even human?" She erupted, snatching the fire poker and swinging. "I'll kill you!"

Caught off guard, Frank's vision went black.

When he came to, the house was empty. Not only was Maya gone, but the $500 deposit from Walter had vanished too.

"That bitch!" Clutching his bleeding forehead, he staggered outside.

He had to find Maya. Otherwise, Walter would skin him alive.

When the White family's gate was kicked open, Luna White was hanging laundry in the yard.

"Hand over Maya!" Frank barged in with a gang of thugs, his eyes bloodshot.

Luna's basin clattered to the ground. Only then did she realize her sister hadn't come home.

Meanwhile, Maya sat on a tractor bound for the provincial capital. David Zhao's arm around her shoulders, he vowed, "Don't worry. I'll take care of you in the city."

Maya clutched the $600 in her sweaty palm. She didn't know what the future held, but at least she'd never be beaten again.

The wind tossed her hair, carrying away the nightmare of that village.