Three months postpartum, I fractured my leg. My husband, Liam, was so worried about me that he spent a fortune booking the most sought-after postpartum doula in the city. He even put down a $7,000 deposit. My mom was looking at the doula’s impressive resume, singing her praises, and was just about to call and tell her to start tomorrow. I reached out and pressed the end-call button on her phone. "Don't bother," I said. "Aunt Susan is about to come over and hijack her." Ever since I could remember, my mother had been a "bleeding heart." Whenever Aunt Susan’s family cried poor or played the victim, my mom would make sure they got the best of whatever our family had to offer. My mom always touted herself as a "saint who loved helping others," completely oblivious to the fact that Aunt Susan laughed behind her back, calling her a gullible sucker. But my mom thought I was just being cynical. She insisted Aunt Susan wasn't like that, raised her phone, and prepared to dial again. Right at that moment, Aunt Susan burst through the front door. She grabbed my mom’s hands and immediately started squeezing out fake tears, whining about how her daughter-in-law wasn't producing breastmilk and begging my mom to let them have the doula. My mom stood there, phone in hand, looking incredibly awkward. I crossed my arms and sneered. "Well, Mom. Are you going to say yes or no this time?" Chapter 1 Aunt Susan wiped away her non-existent tears while using her peripheral vision to gauge my mother’s reaction. "Brenda, you know my new grandson was born premature. He’s got a weak constitution, and my daughter-in-law's milk hasn't come in. If we don't have a professional looking after him, the poor boy might..." She trailed off, swallowing the word "die," expertly tossing the panic squarely onto my mother's shoulders. My mom fell for it hook, line, and sinker. She glanced at my leg, hoisted up in a heavy plaster cast, and then at my newborn daughter, sleeping soundly in the bassinet nearby. My mom gritted her teeth and turned to me. "Chloe, you heard her. Your aunt's situation is a matter of life and death." "Your leg is already broken anyway, you just need to rest. But if that baby doesn't make it, it would be an absolute tragedy." I laughed out of pure disbelief. I pointed at my cast, then at the bassinet. "Mom, I am your biological daughter. I also just gave birth, I have a broken leg, and I literally cannot care for myself right now." "Liam put down a seven-thousand-dollar deposit for this doula specifically to take care of me and the baby because she has specialized rehabilitation credentials." "And you want me to just give her away? Then what am I supposed to do? What is your granddaughter supposed to do?" My mom furrowed her brow, looking at me like I was being entirely unreasonable. "How can you be so selfish?" "You guys have money, just hire another one. Your aunt’s family is struggling; they can't afford this." "Doing a good deed saves lives, don't you understand that?" Seeing my mom cave, Aunt Susan immediately seized the opportunity. "Exactly, Chloe! Auntie knows you’re successful, unlike us, who are scraping the bottom of the barrel." "As for the doula's salary... we can chip in a hundred bucks as a token of appreciation, and you guys can cover the rest..." Unbelievable. Not only did she want to steal my nurse, but she also wanted me to subsidize her salary. She expected me to pay out of my own pocket for someone to serve her grandson? And my mom was actually nodding along. "A hundred bucks is still a nice gesture. Chloe doesn't care about the money anyway." The anger in my chest exploded into a raging inferno. Was this really my biological mother? She acted more like an unpaid employee of Aunt Susan’s household. I grabbed the ceramic teacup next to me and hurled it at the floor. Smash! The sharp crack echoed through the room. Hot tea splattered everywhere, and porcelain shards skittered right to Aunt Susan's feet. Aunt Susan shrieked and jumped back. "Oh my god! Are you trying to kill someone?!" My mom flinched, her face instantly darkening. "Chloe! What on earth are you doing?! Do you have any manners at all?!" "You want to talk about manners? Fine." "This doula signed an exclusive contract with us. The breach of contract fee is fifteen thousand dollars." "Whoever wants to take her away needs to slap fifteen grand on this table right now." "Also, this doula was hired using a specialized corporate benefit through Liam's company. Transferring her privately constitutes corporate fraud. Let's call the cops right now and see what the judge has to say." Hearing "fifteen thousand" and "cops," Aunt Susan's face instantly went pale. People like her were terrified of spending money, and even more terrified of going to jail. Her eyes darted around shiftily before she started throwing a tantrum. "Oh, Brenda, look at your daughter! The richer she gets, the cheaper she acts! Who is she trying to scare..." "If you won't lend her to us, fine! You don't have to act like a psycho! So typical—you get a little money and suddenly you don't recognize your poor relatives!" Aunt Susan cursed all the way out the door, spitting aggressively on our welcome mat before leaving. I thought my mom might check if I had aggravated my injury during the outburst. Instead, she stood there with a black expression, pointing a finger at my nose and scolding me. "You chased your aunt away over something so trivial! How am I supposed to face our relatives now?" "Everyone always praises me for having a saint's heart, but you! You completely humiliated me!" My mom berated me for a solid half hour. Until Liam walked through the door. He was holding a box of my favorite strawberry shortcake, looking exhausted from his commute. The moment he stepped inside, he sensed the toxic atmosphere. The broken porcelain was still on the floor, my mom was sitting on the sofa wiping away dramatic tears, and I was lying in bed with a freezing expression. Liam's face changed. Before he even took off his shoes, he rushed to my bedside. "Honey, what's wrong? Is your leg hurting?" He anxiously checked my cast, then checked our sleeping daughter, only breathing a sigh of relief when he confirmed we were physically okay. Seeing Liam return, my mom immediately found a new target to vent to. "Liam, please, talk some sense into her." "Chloe is getting more and more selfish. Her own flesh and blood hit a rough patch, what's the big deal with helping them out?" "Her aunt was practically on her knees begging, and Chloe threatened to call the cops on her!" Hearing the full story, the usual gentle warmth vanished from Liam's face. He stood up, blocking me from her view, his tone turning hard and icy: "Mom, that doula was hired to take care of Chloe and the baby." "Chloe has a fractured leg. She is precisely the one who needs professional care right now. If we give the nurse away and Chloe suffers permanent nerve damage, who is going to take responsibility?" "You are Chloe’s biological mother. Is an outsider's pride really more important than your daughter's leg?" My mom choked on her words. She clearly didn't expect her usually mild-mannered son-in-law to confront her so directly. She froze for a few seconds before turning her embarrassment into anger, immediately playing the victim card. "Fine! So you two are ganging up to bully an old woman!" "Do you think it's been easy for me to support our relatives all these years? Everyone praises me for being a generous soul, is that a crime?!" "Who do you think I do it for? I do it to build good karma for Chloe!" "Good karma?" I finally lost it. I asked Liam to go into the study and bring out an old ledger I kept in my desk. It was the "record of blood and tears" I had been documenting since I was a teenager. I told Liam to open it and read it out loud, line by line, so my mother could hear. "Sophomore year of college. I worked three jobs and earned a $1,200 scholarship. You stole it to buy my cousin Tyler the newest gaming console. You told me it was a 'loan.' It has never been repaid." "My first year working. My company gave me a premium imported seafood gift basket. Before I even opened the box, you hauled it over to Aunt Susan's house. I never even saw a shrimp shell." "The two-bedroom condo I bought before my wedding. You guilt-tripped me into letting Aunt Susan use it as Tyler's marital home, saying it was just temporary. They lived there for three years. I never saw a dime in rent, and I was the one paying their utility bills!" The more Liam read, the darker his face became. "Mom, your 'good reputation' was bought entirely by slicing pieces of meat off my bones." "I am your daughter, not your personal blood bank!" Having all her dirty laundry aired out, my mom's pride was entirely shattered. She shot up from the sofa, snatched the ledger from Liam's hands, and threw it violently onto the floor. "I raised you! What's wrong with spending some of your money?! You're exactly like your deadbeat father—ungrateful and heartless!" With that, she stormed into the guest room, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. Liam hugged me gently, patting my back. "Don't be angry, it's bad for your recovery. You have me now. I won't let them leech off you ever again." His embrace was warm, but the chilling cold in my heart refused to dissipate. Late that night. My phone buzzed. It was a voice memo from Aunt Susan. Her tone held zero trace of the afternoon's hostility. Instead, it was dripping with an entitled, greedy sweetness. "Chloe, sweetheart! Don't worry about the doula, I don't need her anymore. But I heard you guys have some fancy imported physical therapy machine? Your sister-in-law is recovering from childbirth and feeling very weak. Can we borrow it?" "Your leg is already messed up anyway, so skipping it for a couple of days won't hurt." This family were literal leeches. Once they latched on, they never let go. Early the next morning, right after Liam left for the office, Aunt Susan showed up at our door with my cousin, Tyler. This time they played it smart. They didn't come empty-handed; they brought a basket of bruised, rotting apples. "Oh, Chloe, I was just too anxious yesterday, I spoke out of turn. Don't take it to heart." Aunt Susan dropped the apples on the table and immediately started scanning the room. Finally, her eyes locked onto the physical therapy machine running next to my leg. It was a medical-grade CPM (Continuous Passive Motion) machine that Liam had specially flown in from Germany for $12,000. It was designed specifically to prevent muscle atrophy after my type of surgery. The doctor had given strict orders: I had to use it for at least four hours every single day. "Is this that therapy machine? Looks fancy." Aunt Susan marched over and reached for the power plug. "Perfect timing. My husband's back has been acting up, and my daughter-in-law is in pain too. We'll take it back so the whole family can get some use out of it." I slammed my hand down on the machine. "No." "This is medical equipment, not a toy. If you use it wrong, you could seriously injure someone. And I am in the middle of my rehabilitation. I cannot stop using it." Aunt Susan's face instantly dropped. "Chloe, why do you have to be so stingy? Lending it out for a bit isn't going to break it!" Tyler, who had been silent until now, suddenly lunged forward and forcefully shoved my hand away. "Mom, why are you wasting your breath on her?! Aunt Brenda already promised we could take it!" Saying that, he moved to lift the heavy machine. I panicked. Ignoring the heavy cast on my leg, I struggled forward to block them. "This is my property! I am not lending it to you! This is robbery!" Right at that moment, my mom walked out of the kitchen. She was still holding a spatula. Without even looking at me, she barked: "Chloe! Let go of it!" "It's just a stupid machine! Let your cousin use it for a couple of days, what's the big deal?!" "Your sister-in-law is recovering from a hard labor! You skipping your little leg massage for two days isn't going to kill you!" I stared at my mother in utter disbelief. "Mom, this is my lifeline! The doctor said if I stop for even a day, my muscles could permanently atrophy!" My mom walked over, rolling her eyes impatiently. "Stop listening to doctors trying to scare you! You're just being a drama queen!" In her desperation to help Tyler wrestle the machine away from me, she reached out and shoved me hard. "I said let go! Why are you being such a brat?!" I was sitting in a wheelchair. Her shove hit me squarely in the shoulder. The wheelchair tipped over. I crashed heavily onto the marble floor. The freshly set bone in my leg slammed violently against the hard stone. CRACK! An agonizing pain, like thousands of volts of electricity, shot through my entire body. I let out a blood-curdling scream. Cold sweat instantly soaked my clothes. Aunt Susan and Tyler jumped, almost dropping the machine. But they didn't stop. Instead, they took the opportunity to grab the heavy device and sprint toward the door. Tyler yelled over his shoulder, "She fell on her own! It has nothing to do with us!" Aunt Susan ran faster than a rabbit. "Exactly! Brenda, you saw it! We didn't even touch her!" They grabbed my medical lifeline and bolted out the front door. And my own biological mother stood frozen in place, looking down at me collapsed on the floor. A flash of panic crossed her eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by irritation. "Stop screaming! You're perfectly fine!" "You just had to fight with your own family! If you fell, you brought it on yourself!" The excruciating pain made my vision go black in waves. I felt a warm, thick liquid slide down inside the cast, quickly soaking through the fabric of my pajama pants, blooming into a dark red stain. The bone had displaced. It had likely punctured an artery. My screams terrified my baby daughter in the bassinet, and she began wailing at the top of her lungs. I weakly lifted my head and looked at my mother. "Mom... help me..." "There's so much blood... take me to the hospital..." My mom saw the blood pooling on the floor, and her face changed. She instinctively took a step toward me, reaching her hands out to help. But at that exact moment, Aunt Susan’s frantic voice echoed from the hallway outside: "Brenda! Hurry up and come help us! This machine is too heavy, we can't fit it in the trunk!" My mom's footsteps halted. She looked down at me, drenched in cold sweat and hovering on the edge of unconsciousness. Then she looked toward the door. Aunt Susan urged her again: "Brenda! Hurry up! Don't let that brat Chloe change her mind and chase after us!" My mom hesitated for exactly one second. She turned around, pointed her finger at me, and spat: "Stop faking it! A little blood isn't going to kill you!" "I'm going to help your aunt load this downstairs, then I'll come back and deal with you!" With that, she turned her back and walked out. I watched in total despair as the front door clicked shut. This was my biological mother. As I lay there fighting for my life, she chose to go help robbers load their stolen goods. The agony was making my consciousness fade. But I couldn't die. My daughter was still crying. I bit down on my lip until it bled, using my elbows to drag my body across the floor, inch by agonizing inch, toward the coffee table. Behind me, a long, horrific trail of blood painted the marble floor. Finally, my trembling fingers brushed against my phone. I tried to unlock it, my blood-slicked thumb slipping against the sensor several times before it worked. I dialed Liam's number. "Hello? Honey?" The moment the call connected, I used my last breath to force out a single word: "Help..." The phone slipped from my grasp. Darkness swallowed me whole. I don't know how much time passed. I vaguely heard the deafening sound of the front door being violently smashed open. "CHLOE!!!" It was Liam's voice, tearing out of his throat in pure agony. That was followed by chaotic, rushing footsteps and the horrified shouts of the building's security guards. Right then, a voice humming a light, cheerful tune drifted from the hallway. It was my mom. She had finished loading the stolen goods and was returning at her leisure. "What's all this racket? You're going to tear the door off its hinges!" "She just fell down, is a huge scene really necessary..." Her voice abruptly died in her throat the moment she saw the crowd of people and the massive pool of blood covering the living room floor. Liam, holding my blood-soaked body in his arms, slowly raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot and feral as he locked onto her. I wasn't "faking it." I was actually dying.
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