Chapter 1
16,000 dollars vanished from my bank account.
Three years. 1,096 days. I worked at a bubble tea shop, taught kids to write at a tutoring center, and stocked shelves at the supermarket late into the night.
16,000 dollars I had saved bit by bit was all gone.
I stood in front of the ATM, staring at that big fat zero on the screen, while firecrackers exploded outside all night long.
Today was the day Kelly Greene, my sister, was getting married.
It was also my 18th birthday.
I checked my transaction history.
The last withdrawal was 16,000 dollars, withdrawn at the counter two days ago.
I didn't withdraw it.
My ID was always in my backpack.
My mom helped me open this card. I was only 15 back then, still underage, so I needed a guardian.
My mom knew the password to this card.
I stared at the words on the screen, my fingers growing numb.
Impossible.
I came up with ten excuses for myself. Maybe it was stolen, maybe there was a system glitch, and maybe I got things mixed up.
But inside, a small, clear voice spoke up.
You know where the money went.
I didn't head home right away.
I lingered outside the bank for twenty minutes, then wandered into the convenience store next door, grabbed a bottle of water, and sat on the steps outside.
Everywhere I looked, it was red.
Red lanterns, red banners, red balloons.
Kelly's wedding procession wouldn't set off until noon, but our street had been decked out since last night.
My father reserved twelve tables at the restaurant by the entrance to our apartment complex.
Just two days ago, My Mother told me, "We finally scraped up enough for your sister Kelly's bridal gift."
Scraped up, all right.
Now I knew exactly how they'd managed to "scrape it up."
I finished my water, got up, and headed home.
On the way, I ran into three neighbors, all grinning and saying, "Your sister's getting married today. Congratulations!"
I smiled and nodded.
"Thanks," I replied.
When I got downstairs, I looked up.
On the third-floor balcony, a red banner was strung up, saying "Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together."
My mother was out on the balcony, folding laundry, and spotted me.
"You're back. Hurry up and get changed. Kelly's leaving at ten," she called out.
I didn't move.
"Mom," I said.
"What is it? Hurry up," she urged.
"Where's my money in my bank card?" I asked.
My mother paused for a second.
Then she just kept folding the laundry.
"Come upstairs, and we'll talk about it," she said.
"No, I'm asking right here. Where's my money?" I insisted.
My mother leaned out, her voice hushed. "Keep it down. The neighbors can hear you. Get upstairs."
I went upstairs.
As soon as I walked in, the whole house was buzzing with activity.
My father was in the living room, sorting out the party details over the phone. Kelly was in her room, getting her makeup done while the makeup artist fussed over her. On the table were a bunch of red gift boxes, the gifts for the in-laws.
On the coffee table sat a big red envelope.
I recognized that envelope.
Mom bought it a couple of days ago. It was one of those special red envelopes for a bridal gift.
The envelope was bulging, so thick it was practically bursting.
My mother pulled me into the kitchen and closed the door.
"Keep your voice down," she said.
"Mom, was it you who withdrew my 16,000 dollars?" I asked.
My mother didn't even look at me.
She was washing vegetables.
"Mom, I'm asking you a question," I pressed.
"Yeah, I heard you," my mother said, a bit impatient.
"So, tell me," I pressed.
My mother turned off the faucet and wiped her hands.
"We were a little short for Kelly's bridal gift, so I borrowed your money. I'll pay you back later," she said, like it was no big deal.
Borrowed?
She used the word "borrowed."
"When did you tell me?" I asked.
"I've been so busy these days, I didn't have time..." my mother said.
"16,000 dollars. I spent three years saving that up. And you didn't bother to tell me?" I said, my voice trembling.
My mother frowned.
"You shouldn't talk like that. We're family. There's no such thing as yours or mine when it comes to money," she scolded.
I stayed silent.
Outside the kitchen, I could hear Kelly laughing as the makeup artist told her how gorgeous she looked.
"Okay," I said. "So when are you going to pay me back?"
"Once things are settled for Kelly..." my mother began.
"When exactly?" I insisted.
"Relax, it's not like I'm not going to pay you back," my mother said.
"I need to pay my college enrollment fee next month. It's 2,800 dollars," I said, my voice tight.
My mother was stunned for a moment.
"Uh... We'll have to think of something," she muttered.
"What are you going to do about it?" I pressed.
"Let's see if your uncle can lend us some," my mother said.
"You took my money, and now you expect me to borrow money for my college fees?" I shot back, my voice shaking with anger.
My mother slammed the dishcloth down on the counter.
"Can you not act up on Kelly's big day?" my mother snapped.
Her words cut me like a knife.
It wasn't because she was angry.
It was because she believed I was the one causing trouble.
My very first job was during the summer when I was fifteen.
I worked at a bubble tea shop.
Kelly got into college that year, and her tuition plus living expenses came out to 7,600 dollars a year.
My parents didn't even blink.
"Kelly did well on her exams. Of course, we should support her," my mother said.
My mother pulled out the bankbook, didn't even bother counting, and handed Kelly a card.
"There's 10,000 dollars in there. Make it last," my mother told her.
10,000 dollars.
I remember it like it was yesterday.
That year, I was in ninth grade, and all I wanted was a pair of sneakers. I wanted them so bad.
It wasn't even pricey, just 130 dollars.
Everyone in my class had those.
"Why do you need new shoes? Kelly's got so many expenses for college. Can't you just wear Kelly's old pair?" my mother told me.
Kelly's old shoes were two sizes too big for me.
I stuffed them with cotton and wore them for the whole semester.
After that, I started working at the bubble tea shop myself.
My first month on the job, the boss handed me 400 dollars.
I counted it three times.
It was the first time I had money that was all mine.
I went to the bank and opened an account for myself.
My mother tagged along with me.
"Why does a kid need to save money? Let me take care of it for you..." she said.
"No, I'll handle it myself," I shot back.
That was the first time I ever stood up to my mother.
She looked a little surprised, but didn't push it.
Later, I realized she didn't insist because she had memorized the password.
She was standing right next to me when I opened the account.
My mother watched me type in the password.
From fifteen to eighteen, for three years straight, I juggled three jobs.
At the bubble tea shop, I worked two days every weekend, earning 26 dollars a day.
At the tutoring center, I taught math to elementary school kids every Wednesday and Friday night, earning 13 dollars an hour.
During school breaks, I worked at the supermarket stocking shelves, pulling in 660 dollars a month.