Chapter 2

I took a cab to the best hospital in the city.

When I got to reception, the nurse took one look at my wound and sucked in a sharp breath. "Why did you wait so long to come in? This is really badly infected!"

"My family... can't afford it," I mumbled.

"This is dangerous. Tetanus can kill you, you know!" The nurse immediately put me in for emergency treatment.

The doctor was a man in his early thirties, wearing gold-rimmed glasses. His name tag read "Karson Miller."

He frowned as he examined my wound. "This is deeply infected, and you're already showing early signs of tetanus. We need to clean it out and give you an immunoglobulin shot right away."

I lay on the bed in the treatment room while Karson worked on my wound with practiced skill.

The pain made me break out in a cold sweat, but I clenched the sheets so hard that my knuckles turned white, refusing to cry out.

"You're tough," Karson said suddenly. "Most patients would be screaming by now."

I gave a wry smile. "I'm used to it."

He paused and looked me in the eye. "You know, it's not normal to get used to pain. Where's your family?"

"They're... busy," I murmured.

Karson's eyes grew complicated, but he let it go.

After he finished treating my wound, he wrote out a prescription. "You'll need treatment for a week, and you have to come in every day to get your dressing changed. Tetanus immunoglobulin is expensive, but..."

"It doesn't matter how much it costs," I cut him off, sliding out my brand new bank card. "Please use whatever's best."

Karson looked momentarily surprised, then nodded. "Alright. Still... If you ever need anything, please feel free to ask me. The hospital's social work department is there if you need it..."

"Thanks, but it's really not necessary," I said with a forced smile. "I can take care of myself."

By the time I was done with treatment, it was already seven at night.

I stood outside the hospital, checking my bank balance on my phone. The treatment had cost ten thousand dollars, leaving me with over 1.4 million dollars. This money could have saved me, but it ended up in my parents' pockets instead.

I took a deep breath and called a real estate agent. "I want to see some houses. Right now."

The agent was a friendly middle-aged woman. When she heard my budget, her eyes lit up. "1.5 million dollars in cash? No problem! I've got a few fully furnished apartments that are ready to move into."

We looked at three apartments, and in the end, I picked a small unit in a luxury complex downtown.

It was 900 square feet, fully furnished, and had top-notch security. The total price was one million. I put down the deposit on the spot.

"Miss Goodwin, you're so decisive!" the agent beamed. "We can get the paperwork done tomorrow."

By the time I got back to my "home," it was almost midnight.

Unexpectedly, my parents and brother were waiting in the living room, grim-faced and silent.

"Where have you been, staying out this late?" my father snapped as soon as he saw me.

"I-I was at the hospital," I replied nervously. "My leg..."

"What a waste of money!" my mother shrilled. "Didn't I give you cash for lottery tickets? Don't tell me you didn't win a thing!"

My heart raced, but I kept up my act of being timid. "N-no... just bad luck..."

"Useless!" my father spat, waving me off in disgust. "Get back to your room! Starting tomorrow, you're stuck with all the cooking and laundry. Felix nailed the interview, so we're celebrating."

I kept my head down and hurried to the storage closet. Once the door was closed, I finally let myself smile.

Celebrate? Just wait. Soon enough, you wouldn't be smiling at all.

Early the next morning, while they were taking Felix to his new school, I sneaked out and closed the deal for my new apartment.

When I finally got the keys, my hands trembled so much that I could barely keep hold of that tiny piece of metal.

"Do you need any help moving?" the agent asked kindly.

"No, I don't have much," I replied. Honestly, in that "home," everything I owned could fit in a single backpack.

That afternoon, I headed over to a law office.

"I want advice about asset protection and... cutting off all legal ties with my parents," I told the lawyer who greeted me.

The lawyer was a woman in her fifties, her eyes as sharp as a hawk's.

Once I'd given her a quick summary, she adjusted her glasses and asked, "Do you have any proof they've abused you?"

"Not yet," I said, biting my lip. "But I'll collect it."

"You need to safeguard your assets first," the lawyer advised. "Make sure they can't access your funds under any circumstances. After that, get medical records, any recordings, videos... all of those will serve as solid evidence."

Rain began to fall as I stepped out of the law office.

I stood there, letting the chilly rain wash over my cheeks.

This time, I wouldn't go soft. I wouldn't let my story repeat itself.

When I returned to my "home," I was busy collecting evidence behind their backs.

I caught my mother's insults on my phone, snapped pictures of my bare-bones "room" and the expired medicine lying around.

The strongest evidence was my leg injury. Karson had written up every nasty detail of how bad the infection was and everything he did to treat it. It was undeniable proof they'd put my life on the line.

A week later, my treatment was finished, and my new home was finally ready.

Karson unwrapped the bandage from my leg, revealing a nicely healed wound. "Looks like you're healing well. But remember—if you ever get hurt, deal with it right away. Got it?"

"I understand, thanks," I said sincerely. Throughout that whole week, Karson was the only person who actually treated me with kindness.

"If you ever need a check-up or any kind of help, just reach out. You know where to find me," Karson said, hesitating for a moment.

I nodded and made sure to save his number.

Maybe it would come in handy someday.

After leaving the hospital, I went straight to my new home.

Standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the city at night, I finally let myself break down in tears.

This time, my fate was finally in my own hands.

The next day, I'd be cutting all ties with that so-called "family."

My revenge was just beginning.