In 1934, Norwalk State Hospital, intensive care unit, intensive care unit of critical (mental illness).

"Gladys, are you okay?" asked the young lady sitting next to the hospital bed.

"You are... Grace. Where am I?" The woman who had just woken up from the effects of the sedative on the hospital bed, her face was pale and haggard as she had survived the disaster.

"You are in the hospital. The person who sent you said, "You are waving your bread knife like crazy, yelling that someone is going to kill you." The lady named Grace also heard of it.

"Is that..." The female mentally ill woman named Gladys was trying hard to recall the last madness before her loss of reason: "I seem to have some impression."

"Rehabilitate well, the doctor Gladys said you are worse than before this time." Grace comforted softly.

"Norma, my Norma." The female psychopath named Gladys was once again excited about her emotions being suppressed by the drug.

"Mom!" A girl rushed into the ward.

"My baby." The female mentally ill hugged her biological daughter tightly.

My friend Grace also empathized with her and quietly wiped her tears.

I don’t know how long it took, the exhausted girl had already fallen asleep in her mother’s arms. The female mentally ill who also calmed down made an important decision: “Grace, can you help me take care of Norma for a while?”

"Of course, Gladys." Grace nodded solemnly.

"It won't take long to wait until I'm discharged from the hospital and go to Hollywood to find a job as an editor, and then take Norma back. Nothing can be made to separate us anymore, and even the demon who whispers in my ear can't do it." When handing the little angel sleeping in his arms to his friend, the female mentally slutted to herself with a determined look.

This is a mother's promise.

Soon after, the little girl sleeping in her mother's arms woke up from the bumpy rear seat of the car.

Open your eyes gently and know that it is no longer my mother's ward. I have experienced too many girls who look like parting, and sit up well so that the lady who is concentrating on driving can see herself in the rearview mirror.

"Ah, Norma. You're awake." The lady who was driving intently was Grace who went to the hospital to visit her friend.

"..." The little girl stared at the rearview mirror and did not move.

"What should I do... Yes, let me introduce myself first. My name is Grace McKee, you can call me Mrs. McKee, or Aunt Grace. I am your mom's good sister. We have been in Hollywood together..."

"Hello, Mrs. McKee." The little girl finally spoke: "My name is Norma Jeane."

"Hello, Norma." Mrs. Grace McKee, who was interrupted in time for not knowing how to end, also breathed a sigh of relief: "Don't worry, your mother looks pretty good. As she said, it will get better soon..."

"Where are we going?" the little girl interrupted Mrs. Grace McKee just right.

"Oh, go to my house." The female driver stabilized the steering wheel and turned around and smiled, "It's your house."

"Okay, Mrs. McGee." The little girl who knew where to go was no doubt.

"By the way, Norma. How old are you?" The mature little girl surprised Mrs. Grace McKee.

"8 years old." After saying that, the girl turned her eyes out the window for the first time.

June 1, 1941.

Sherman Oaks, California, the McKees' home.

"Uncle McGee, don't do this!" Norma, dressed as a doll, looked at the middle-aged man who pressed her to the dining table in horror.

"You have grown up, my little cutie. Look, we just celebrated our 15th birthday." The man pinched the girl's neck with one hand and untied his belt with the other: "Think about how I have been raising you for so many years when I got up early and went to bed late, oh, my little cutie is just to pay for your own child support! There is no free lunch in the world, right?"

As he said that, he tore the girl's shorts inside the princess skirt apart.

The girl who heard the saying "There is no free lunch in the world" was torn off by a man, and suddenly stopped resisting like a broken puppet.

"That's right, my little cutie, my baby sweetheart. Uncle McGee won't hurt you." Just as the man was trembling and was about to pounce on him, "Sizi" flashed, and his whole body was convulsed. Uncle McGee's eyes were crooked and his mouth was slanted, and he was foaming at the mouth. He was knocked away by an electric rod that suddenly stuffed into his crotch from behind.

It is still the thick and long old-fashioned police electric rod, commonly known as "electric mace".

Sparks were lightning all the way, and even the thick thigh hair was burned into charcoal with a "sweetening".

"How are you?" The strange man holding up the old police electric rod with a sizzling sound and laughing out loud, and then burst into the girl's eyes.

"Who are you?" The girl hadn't reacted from extreme shock.

"Ah, new neighbor." The strange man turned off the electric rod first, then reached out and helped the girl lying on the dining table up: "My name is Wu Chen, Wu is my last name."

"You are Chinese." The girl who had just escaped from the sleepiness quickly pulled down her skirt: "(Mom took me) I have been to Chinatown in San Francisco."

"Yes, I am." Mr. Wu Chen avoided his gaze.

"You said you are your new neighbor?" The girl was full of gratitude to the man who saved her innocent body.

"Ah, yes." As he said that, Wu Chen pointed to the old wooden house outside the window: "This is my home."

"That's Mr. Doherty's home." The girl immediately put down her last defense: "Mr. Doherty's son James works at the Lockheed Plant Factory."

"Ah, yes." Wu Chen smiled and said, "I heard that James Dougherty is also an American football star from Van Nees High School in Los Angeles."

"But why did he move away..." The girl's expression was filled with a hint of sadness.

"I don't know. But everyone has their own plans for their own life. So separation and reunion are common." Wu Chen explained with a smile, and changed the subject:

"By the way, what should I call you?"

"Norma Jenny." The girl then remembered the situation in front of her, so she immediately cheered up: "Oh my God, how is Uncle McGee?"

"It should be no problem... right?" As he said that, Wu Chen looked at the old-fashioned police electric rod that was so grown in his hand that he could almost be used as a crutch: "There is a high probability that he can take care of himself in life. As for whether he has other abilities, I can't guarantee it."

"Puchi--" The girl was immediately amused: "I haven't thanked you well yet, Mr. Wu (Woo)?"

"No need." Looking at the "Uncle McGee" who was charred on the ground by the corona, Wu Chen's smile was clear and transparent: "I haven't wished you a happy birthday yet, Norma."

Watching Uncle McGee, who was "accidentally electrocuted while using a hair dryer", whistled away, the girl breathed a sigh of relief: "Sir, why did you move here from San Francisco (Chinatown)?"

"Of course it's for the work of the Vanneis aircraft factory." Wu Chen replied: "You know, (after all) during the war."

"Is it the same job as the Lockheed aircraft factory?" The girl's eyes lit up.

"No, we are making unmanned target aircraft." Wu Chen explained with a smile: "It is used to serve as a target for fighter aircraft... By the way, I heard that the factory is preparing to recruit a group of female riveters."

"Just like 'Russie Rivet'?" The girl immediately grabbed the point.

"That's right." Wu Chen nodded slightly.

"So sir, can you help me get this job?" Although it was too much to ask for a stranger I met for the first time, the girl could not care about so much considering her situation. As for the compensation she had to pay, she had already thought about it. As the "Uncle McGee" said, there was no free lunch in the world.
Chapter completed!