A good-for-nothing father and a dutiful daughter—after years of absence, my father reappeared and told me, "If the shop has no customers, you'll just have to be the one to earn money." Since my parents' divorce, he'd repeatedly returned whenever he ran out of cash, pressuring my mother for reconciliation, beating her, stealing from her, raping me, then vanishing again. My mother, who raised me with kindness and warmth, was struggling to keep her beloved shop alive during the pandemic. I watched helplessly as she smiled and said, "I'll figure something out," while growing paler each day. I had long suppressed my feelings for the sake of my family, enduring each passing moment in silence. One day, I confided in my worthless father. His response was exactly this: "If you won't do it, who will?" I was too naive to see any other choice. Again today, after receiving payment from a customer, my despicable father cheerfully patted me on the back and skipped out of the room. Then, a man approached me with sweaty hands, leaned close, and asked, "What's your name?" before pressing his body against mine, leaving a damp stain on my crotch. In that moment, as the relentless man overwhelmed me with his rough assault, moans and sobs burst from my lips. This is the tragic story of a helpless girl exploited by utterly rotten adults.