Chapter 3

On the ride over, I skimmed the law: real kid, adopted kid, it made no difference.

If I walked away, they could haul me into court and force me to play nurse anyway.

Still, I was pretty sure this whole thing would be settled fast.

After cleaning up, I finally crawled into bed. It was already the middle of the night. My whole body felt dead tired from running around all day, but I kept tossing and turning, wide awake.

I was the eldest kid in the family, always taught to put my siblings first. And I did, every single time. But no matter what, Velva was never satisfied. She'd yell at me or even smack me over nothing.

But my dad was different. He'd always come and comfort me after Velva blew up.

He died of cancer. Right before he passed, he held Velva's hand and asked her to treat me better from then on. I was really moved by that.

After that, Velva actually started treating me a lot better. She kept saying that now that my dad was gone, I was the backbone of the family.

Back in my previous life, after Velva's car accident, whenever Mia and William were on break, they'd come help out. But every single time, something would go wrong.

They either skipped Velva's pills or gave the wrong dose, and they never changed her diaper. They just left the mess for me.

When the doctor came by to check on Velva, they couldn't answer a single question.

I'd get so tired and frustrated, but the moment Mia and William looked at me with those big, clueless eyes, I couldn't stay mad.

After a while, taking care of Velva became my job alone. They'd only drop by once in a while, to check in, and then leave.

At exactly eight in the morning, I got to the hospital. Mia was crashed out on the cot, and William was slumped over the edge of Velva's bed.

The urine bag hanging by the bed was full. It looked like nobody bothered to empty it all night.

I woke William and Mia up.

William started complaining. He said, "Penny, you're finally here. We seriously have no clue how to take care of Mom. It's way too hard."

He grabbed my arm, trying to act all cute, but I pulled away and said coldly, "None of us know what we're doing. Let's hire a caregiver. I checked yesterday: it's only 80 bucks a day."

Velva, now fully alert, shot back, "No way."

Just then, Henry walked in. He said, "Why throw money away on that? Honestly, I don't feel comfortable letting a stranger look after your mom."

I stared at Henry and said, "Either we hire a caregiver, or we each take a day. I can put my job on hold for now, but this isn't just my problem.

"Let's make this clear right now: if you're planning to shove all this onto me, I'm out of here tonight."

I turned to Velva and said, "You've spent 20 grand on me over the years, and I'll pay you back every cent."

For a moment, Velva's eyes flickered with guilt before she tried to explain, "Every one of you three has a running tab in that ledger."

I kept quiet, letting the tension thicken in the room.

In the end, we settled on a plan: each of us would take a day this week. After that, I'd handle the daytime shifts on weekdays, Mia would cover the nights, and William would take care of Velva on the weekends.

Honestly, I knew they'd never go for hiring a caregiver. None of them wanted to spend the cash.

After they left, I helped Velva turn over, wiped her down, and kept a log of her meds and meals. Everything I did was smooth, like I'd been doing this for years.

The caregiver from the next bed watched and said, "Girl, you're way more on it than your siblings. I told them to turn your mom, or she'd get bedsores, but they blew me off."

Velva cut in, "My two kids are still young, you know, they're still in school."

Then she gave me a long, meaningful look.

That look was her way of saying I was the one being unreasonable.

Velva used to just call me out directly, but after my dad died, whenever I did something she didn't like, she would hit me with that guilt-trip stare.

Every time, it gnawed at me until I caved and did exactly what she wanted, no matter how I felt.

This time, I kept my ground and never caved in to taking care of Velva all by myself, so she gave me the silent treatment all day.

That night, after the anesthesia wore off, Velva was wracked with pain.

I asked if she wanted me to call the doctor for some painkillers, but she grabbed my hand and said, "Penny, don't call. I don't want to drag you down. Let me go.

"If I die, I die. Just promise you'll look after Mia and William."

She'd said the same thing to me in my previous life. Back then, guilt ate me alive. I ended up taking care of her as if she were made of glass, fussing over every little detail.

Worried she'd blame herself, I always put on a brave face, never letting her catch even a glimpse of how exhausted I really was.

For a moment, Velva's face blurred together with that icy, lifeless look I'd had right before dying in my previous life. The memory made me tremble uncontrollably.

I pulled my hand away and just watched her, breaking out in a cold sweat from the pain.

She knew I'd go soft and feel sorry for her.

But this time, I didn't try to talk her out of it. I just sat by her bed, playing on my phone.

I coldly stared at her as her lips turned white from the pain, unable to even get the words out.