Chapter 1

Not long after the divorce, my daughter, the only family I had left, was diagnosed with end-stage kidney failure. I worked myself to the bone delivering takeout, ran all over town, got cursed out by customers, signed the papers to sell my house, and even prepared to give her one of my kidneys.

Then one day, while making a delivery to Riverside Manor, I saw the daughter who was supposed to be in the hospital getting dialysis happily peeling shrimp for my ex-husband's new wife.

Someone inside said, "Emmy, you made your own mother suffer for five years just to help Aunt Grace get even. She's practically worked herself to death. Don't you think that's too cruel?"

My daughter let out a cold snort, her face full of disdain. "Cruel? If she hadn't shamelessly clung to being Dad's wife back then, how would've Aunt Grace suffered? These five years were her punishment. Once Aunt Grace really forgives her, I'll have the doctor fake a successful surgery."

Someone beside her hesitated. "But this was kidney failure. How are you going to explain it away?"

My daughter smiled, looking innocent and cruel at the same time. "Relax. All I have to do is give her a little kindness, and she'll wag her tail in gratitude like a dog. You really think she'd be smart enough to question it?"

Rain seeped through the cracks in my helmet and ran down my neck like ice. I clutched the still-warm delivery bag so hard my fingers hurt, and my lungs felt like they were about to burst from running. Riverside Manor was the most expensive neighborhood in the city. I took this order in the middle of a storm because nobody else would, just so I could make a little extra and buy my daughter some better fruit.

But at that moment, I would've rather died on the road than see what was in front of me.

Beyond the huge floor-to-ceiling window, the warm yellow light was almost blinding. The daughter I thought was suffering in the ICU, barely able to breathe, stood there in pink silk pajamas, rosy-cheeked and full of life, feeding peeled shrimp to Grace Sullivan, my ex-husband Richard Carter's former mistress, now his wife.

The woman who wrecked my family and forced me out with nothing.

"Aunt Grace, shrimp is your favorite. I had the maid make it just for you," Emmy said in a syrupy sweet voice I'd never once heard her use with me.

Grace patted her head with a doting smile. "Good girl, Emmy. Unlike your real mother, who's stupid, stubborn, and hard as a rock."

Emmy curled her lip in disgust. "Don't mention that miserable woman. Just hearing about her ruins my appetite. If I weren't helping Aunt Grace get even, I wouldn't have bothered with this whole sick-act stunt. These past five years, watching her run around begging people for my medical bills has been hilarious."

She burst out laughing. "Last time, she lived on steamed buns and pickles for a whole month just to buy me imported medicine, and I poured it straight down the drain."

Thunder crashed outside. The delivery bag slipped from my hands and hit the ground with a heavy thud, startling everyone inside. Emmy turned and saw me standing in the rain, soaked to the bone.

Her smile froze for a beat, then twisted into something even nastier. There was no panic or guilt in her eyes, only cold, superior contempt.

The door opened, and Richard came out in designer loungewear. He frowned at me as if I were trash. "Laura Bennett? What are you doing here? What, are you begging at my door now?"

I shook with rage and stared at Emmy as she stepped out from behind Richard. "Why?" My voice came out raw and hoarse. "Emmy, I sold the house to save you. Tomorrow I was supposed to go into surgery and give you my kidney. Why did you lie to me?"

Emmy leaned against the doorframe, still holding a freshly peeled shrimp. She gave a scornful laugh and tossed it into her mouth. "Lie to you? Who told you to be so stupid? I said I was sick and you believed me. I said I was in pain and you cried."

"Take a good look at yourself, Laura Bennett. You reek of poverty. You've fallen so low you're delivering takeout to your ex-husband's front door. That's embarrassing."

I lunged at her, trying to grab her hand. "I'm your mother! For five years, I worked three jobs, slept under overpasses, and lived off leftovers. I wasn't afraid of hardship. I was only afraid something would happen to you. How could you lie to me about something like this? This was life and death!"