Chapter 3
My mom scrambled up from the floor and grabbed my hand. She said, "Ada, please don't do this. I messed up. I'm giving you the money back. Don't let the cops arrest your dad!"
She pulled out the bankbook and a few crumpled bills from her pocket, shoving them into my hand.
She said, "All of it, I'm giving it back. Please, tell the cops it's all a misunderstanding!"
I looked at the bankbook in my hand.
"And the tablet," I said, turning to Brian.
Brian reluctantly tossed the tablet to me and grumbled, "You're such a cheapskate."
Frank came upstairs.
He asked, "What's going on here?"
My aunt forced a smile and said, "It's all just a misunderstanding. The kids were just acting up, having a little family spat. Everything's been found, nothing's missing."
Frank turned to me and asked, "Ms. Carter, is that true?"
I glanced at my mom's pleading eyes, my dad's pale, stony face, and my grandpa's trembling hands.
I said, "It's a misunderstanding this time. But if it happens again, I won't let it slide."
Frank gave us a warning and then left.
The crowd scattered.
Before leaving, my dad glared at me, his eyes full of hate. He spat, "Ada, just you wait. This isn't over."
I closed the door and locked it behind me.
I stuffed the bankbook into my bag.
I couldn't stay here anymore.
They knew my address now, and they'd only get more aggressive.
That night, I packed my bags and checked into a hotel.
Three days later, Tracy sent me a WhatsApp message. It was a photo.
The photo showed a wedding dress, priced at 19 thousand.
Right after that, she sent a voice message. She said, "Ada, I've got my eye on this wedding dress. Brian said you just got paid. Can you lend me 16 thousand? I'll pay you back once I get the cash gifts from the wedding."
I replied: [I'm broke.]
Tracy called right away.
I didn't pick up.
After a while, Brian sent a voice message. He snapped, "Ada, what's your deal? Tracy finally found a wedding dress she loves, and you can't even help her out? Do you not want me to get married or something?"
I ignored it.
The next day, I got a call from my former coworker.
He said, "Ada, check the company group chat. Your mom's causing a scene at the office."
My heart dropped as I opened WhatsApp.
Someone had posted several videos in the company group chat.
In the videos, my mom was sitting on the floor at the company's front desk, holding up a sign that said: [Unfilial daughter Ada, abandoned her parents, ignores her own brother. Unforgivable!]
She was crying and shouting, "Leaders, kind people, please judge for yourselves. I worked so hard to put her through college, and now that she's independent, she won't even come home or answer my calls.
"Her brother's getting married, and she won't give a single cent. She even called the police on us! How can your company keep someone like her around?"
A crowd had gathered around, pointing fingers and gossiping.
The security guards tried to talk her into leaving, but she refused to budge.
My hand shook as I held my phone.
Even after I'd quit, she was still out to trash my reputation.
She wanted to make sure I'd get blacklisted and never work in this business again.
I took a cab straight to the company.
As soon as I stepped into the lobby, I spotted my mom still making a scene.
When she saw me, her eyes went wide. She jumped up and rushed over, grabbing my clothes. She shouted, "You damn brat! Finally decided to show up, huh? Everyone, look. It's her, an ungrateful bastard."
Everyone was staring at me, their eyes like needles digging into my skin.
My former boss came out, looking pissed. He asked, "Ada, what's going on here? Didn't you quit? Why is your family here making a scene?"
I took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry. I'll handle it."
I turned to my mom and asked, "What do you want?"
My mom wiped her tears and said, "What do I want? Money! Your brother needs 160 thousand dollars for the wedding dress, the wedding, and the reception. You have to give it to me today.
"If you don't, I'm not leaving. I'll go to your place and make a scene. I'll go to your friends' places and make a scene. Let's see how you ever show your face again!"
"160 thousand dollars? Why don't you just kill me now? Even if I sold my kidney, I still couldn't come up with that kind of money," I scoffed, half laughing, half furious.
My mom shot back, "No money? Then go borrow it. Get a loan. Don't you have a credit card? Don't you have a housing fund? Cash it all out.
"You just worry about living well, and to hell with the rest of us starving! We need to save face."
There were whispers all around.
One said, "Man, that mom is ruthless."
Another chimed in, "Poor girl."
Someone said, "Still, isn't she a bit cold? Her own brother's getting married and she won't lift a finger?"
Not everyone was backing me up.
In families like mine, refusing to help my brother was basically unforgivable.
I looked at my mom and asked, "Mom, do you remember what I told you a couple of days ago?"
She asked, "What did you say?"
I replied, "I said, if you pull this again, it won't just be a misunderstanding."
I took out my phone and called the police again.
My mom shrieked, "You're calling the cops again? I'm your mother. No matter how many times you call the police, I'm still your mom! You really think the cops can control everything, even stop me, your own mother, from getting money out of you?"
The cop showed up in no time.
Frank again.
He took one look at the chaos, and I could tell he was already getting a migraine.