Chapter 2

I looked at Emily, my cousin, who was three years younger than me.

Growing up, she was like a freeloader, always attached to my family and never letting go.

When I aced my exams, and she barely passed, Mom would say, "Emily's got brains. She just doesn't use them right. All you do is cram."

When I worked my butt off to buy new appliances for the house, she'd put on a cute act with my old phone. Mom would gush, "Emily's got such a sweet mouth. You're like a statue."

Turned out, in their eyes, I wasn't just like a statue. I was their walking ATM.

"That's my money," I said, locking eyes with Mom. "I need it for my surgery. Give it back."

Mom's face darkened as she hugged her handbag to her chest.

She snapped, "What do you mean by your money? Since you gave it to me, it's mine. Besides, the down payment is already paid, and there's no way to get it back.

"Emily finally found a place she likes, and you want her to give it up? What's your problem? Do you want to ruin her whole future?"

Wow, what flawless logic.

So in her mind, I should die while Emily could have her dream home.

My stomach suddenly cramped up, making me break out in a cold sweat from the pain.

I curled up on the bed, gripping the sheets with everything I had.

"I... I need surgery..." I forced the words out through clenched teeth.

"Surgery is all you ever talk about!" Mom stood up, jabbing her finger right in my face. "The doctor said it's early-stage. Even if you get it removed, it might not help, and what if it comes back? That would be a money pit.

"Your dad and I are getting old. We need that money for our retirement. You expect us to dump it all into you?"

"Charlotte, stop pressuring Aunt Linda," Emily cut in, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look at her. You're about to make her blood pressure spike. It's only surgery. Don't you have your own savings? Why are you so focused on her money?"

Did I even have any savings left?

This past year, to make it in this city and give my parents their precious status, I bought a house and a car. Both were under their names.

Most of my savings were already drained by Dad's medical bills.

The 300 thousand I had left was my last safety net.

Now, that safety net was gone.

"I don't have any money left," I whispered, closing my eyes as tears rolled down my face, cold against my skin. "Mom, I'm your daughter."

"My daughter?" Mom laughed, but there was no warmth in it. "So what? You came home once a year, slept the whole time, and never even smiled at me.

"Emily is just my niece, but she treats me more like family than you do. Listen, I have no money. If you don't pull through, then it wasn't meant to be."

With that, she grabbed Emily's arm and headed for the door.

"Come on, Emily, let's get something to eat. I need to cool down after all this."

"Aunt Linda, don't be mad. Charlotte was probably talking crazy because she was sick," Emily said.

The two of them played off each other as they walked out of the room.

As the door clicked shut, I heard Emily say in the hallway, "Let's shoot a video and post it right here in the hospital hallway. It would make us look good, like we were always here taking care of her."

"Good idea. You always thought of everything," Mom replied.

I lay in bed, staring at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling.

They were blindingly white. Hopelessly white.

Turned out, people could be so partial.

When money was involved, blood ties meant nothing at all.

I didn't let myself cry.

After ten years of grinding in this city and other big cities, I had learned to swallow my tears.

Crying never helped anything.

I had to survive.

I had to take back what was mine and make Emily and Mom pay back every penny, with interest.

I thought about calling the police.

But that would be letting them off too easily.

The cops would call it a family dispute and walk away. Nobody wanted to get in the middle of that.

I wanted Emily and Mom to choke on everything they took from me.

I fought through the pain and dialed a number I had saved for years but never had the guts to call.

It belonged to Michael Carter, my college classmate and a top lawyer now.

The phone rang twice before he picked up.

"Hey, Charlotte?" His voice was steady and calm, the kind that made one feel like things might be okay.

"Michael." I tried to keep my voice steady. "I need your help."

"I'm listening." He did not waste time with small talk.

"I wanted to file a lawsuit." I took a breath. "Against my mom and Emily."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Then Michael asked, "Are you sure about this?"

"I am." I stared out the window at the gray sky. "They made their choice. Now I'm making mine."

After hanging up, I didn't feel any relief.

The pain in my stomach was still there, reminding me that I was sick.

But I knew the worst pain was still coming.

*****

Michael fronted the money for my surgery.

He said, "Think of it as a loan. I'll charge the highest interest rate the bank offers. Do not think about skipping out on me."

I knew he was trying to let me keep my pride.

That afternoon, I was wheeled into the operating room.

No family member signed the consent form.

I signed it myself.

The doctor looked at me, his expression caught between concern and confusion. "Miss, are you sure there is really no family here for you?"

"Dead," I said flatly. "All of them."

He paused, stunned, and didn't say another word.

As the anesthesia hit my veins, I felt myself falling, sinking into a black hole with no bottom.

But inside, a fire was burning.

I wasn't going down like that.

I couldn't die yet.

I needed to watch Emily and my parents regret it and watch them break down.

I was going to thrive. More than any of them.