On the live trivia game show, the host asked my mom: "What is one plus one?" Without a second of hesitation, my mom answered: "Three." Everyone in the studio froze. To scrape together the astronomical cost of my life-saving surgery, my family had gone on this show. As long as they answered ten questions correctly, they would win a five-million-dollar grand prize. After agonizingly fighting their way through nine difficult questions, the host, acting out of sheer pity, tossed them an absolute softball. This prize money was my only lifeline. But my mother, a woman with a PhD in Mathematics, deliberately answered it wrong. …… I lurched upward in my hospital bed, a dull, suffocating pain blooming in my chest. On the screen, the host recovered instantly, snapping on a professional smile: "Dr. Lillian Evans is a math PhD. Perhaps in some advanced, theoretical realm of mathematics we haven't discovered yet, one plus one can equal three." "However, the question I just asked is incredibly simple. You only need to use the logic of a first-grader!" But my mom just blinked, her voice unyielding: "One plus one equals three." The host’s smile began to crack. My older brother, Caleb, thrust two fingers into the air, waving them frantically in front of my mom's face. "Mom! We just need to get this last question right, and we’ll get the money for Chloe's surgery!" "This is not the time to make jokes!" My dad was sweating bullets. "Honey, did you mishear the question? Did it just come out wrong by accident?" But no matter how hard my dad and brother pleaded, my mom held her ground, insisting—"One plus one is three." The live audience erupted. "Is this mother insane?" "This has to be scripted! What kind of real mother wants her own kid to die?" Each question had a ten-minute time limit. Seeing the countdown ticking away, I begged the nurse to help me make a video call to the show’s production team. They connected me immediately. My pale, wasted face was projected onto the giant screen inside the studio. A collective gasp went through the crowd. The host's eyes brimmed with genuine sorrow. At sixteen, I had suddenly been diagnosed with a malignant cardiac tumor. I was in mortal danger every single second of the day. The only hope I had left to live was that prize money. The host was vibrating with anxiety, looking like an ant on a hot pan: "There are only three minutes left on the clock." "If you answer incorrectly, all of your family's hard work will be for nothing!" To get on this show, my entire family had stayed up all night for three months, memorizing endless trivia databases. They had done the impossible and gotten nine questions right, only for my mom to start spouting nonsense on the tenth. I spoke into the camera, my voice trembling: "Mom, the prize is five million. My treatment only costs three million." "I won't take a single cent of the rest of the money!" "And as soon as I recover, I promise I'll work so hard to make money, and I’ll give you my entire paycheck to take care of you!" The audience was weeping. Even Mom’s eyes welled up with tears. With ten seconds left on the clock, Mom raised her hand to indicate she wanted to change her answer. I finally let out a breath of relief. Maybe she was just playing a cruel joke on everyone. "I’m sorry, I misspoke earlier." "One plus one... should equal..." I held my breath. Mom scanned the room, and suddenly, a small smile played on her lips. "One plus one equals one!" The countdown hit zero. The $5,000,000 on the giant screen instantly reset to zero! Chapter 2 Right then, Mom said in a slow, casual voice: "Oh, I'm sorry. I was careless. I meant to say two." But the timer was done. My surgery money was gone. A violent throb of pain ripped through my chest. The world in front of me started to go black. Caleb lost control, screaming at the top of his lungs: "Mom! What the hell are you doing?!" "Chloe is going to die!" Mom just calmly pointed a finger at the giant screen: "Look. See how much pain Chloe is in?" "You know she's in pain and you still got it wrong on purpose?!" Caleb’s eyes were bloodshot. "You knew if you answered it right, she would live!" "This is all your fault..." My mom’s voice suddenly spiked: "My fault? I didn't do it on purpose!" "Of course I know one plus one is two, I was just careless with my answer!" Careless? My eyes widened in shock. How could anyone be careless about one plus one? Mom knew perfectly well that if we didn't get that money, I would die immediately. Why would she... Amidst the crowd's shock and fury, my mother cocked her head, turning to look at Caleb. "Caleb, do you remember your prep school entrance exam? You lost five whole points because you wrote down that one plus one equals three." "Because of those five points, you didn't get into the elite middle school." "When I disciplined you, you had the nerve to talk back. You said you were just being 'careless,' and that you’d just pay more attention next time." "Well, today, I’m showing you exactly what the consequences of a moment of 'carelessness' can be!" Mom pointed back at the big screen: "Look closely. Burn Chloe's sweating, agonizing face into your memory." "This is the consequence of being careless!" "Today, I am using your sister's suffering to teach you a lesson!" The entire studio went nuclear. I stared at the screen, utterly dumbfounded. Caleb is a junior in college now! She had held onto that grudge from his middle school exams all this time just to do this?! Dad went berserk: "Do you realize Chloe is about to die?!" "If you want to teach Caleb a lesson, couldn't you pick literally any other time or place?!" My mom just huffed, looking annoyed: "Doctors always exaggerate. Chloe is young; she can hold on much longer than other people." "Caleb's sloppy, careless habits needed to be cured a long time ago! Gentle lecturing didn't work, so I am giving him a lesson carved into his very bones so he’ll never forget it!" I could barely breathe. The nurse gripped my hands tightly, her eyes filled with profound pity. Dad roared, lunging forward like he was going to tackle Mom. My mom just raised a hand to stop him. "What’s the rush?" "Doesn't the show have a Bonus Lightning Round?" "As long as we get the next question right, we might not get the five million, but we still get a guaranteed three million dollars!" "That’s more than enough for Chloe's surgery!" Under the host's frantic mediation, Dad and Caleb finally managed to calm down. Mom looked at the screen, her gaze softening artificially. "Chloe, just hang on a little longer." "Mommy just wanted to take this opportunity to educate your brother." "The next question, Mommy will definitely get right!" I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood, fighting back tears. "Mom... I know you love me... but for this next question... can Dad or Caleb answer it, please?" Mom's expression froze. Dad and Caleb, terrified that Mom would pull another stunt, immediately agreed with my suggestion. But it was too late. In the previous rounds, they had already used up all their personal answering slots. Mom was the only one allowed to take the stage. This final question held my life in the balance. The studio was dead silent. Sweat poured down the host’s face. He flipped frantically through the database, finally settling on the absolute easiest question he could find. "Lillian Evans, what date is your birthday?" "You can just say the month and day." I let out a breath of relief, looking at the host with eyes full of immense gratitude. Mom didn't hesitate to press the buzzer. But she said: "Host, I would like to use my 'Phone a Friend' lifeline!" Chapter 3 The audience gasped. How could anyone not remember their own birthday? A sickening panic settled in my stomach. Since I got sick, Mom’s hair had gotten grayer and grayer. I had heard that if middle-aged people were under chronic stress for too long, it could trigger early-onset dementia. Was Mom’s health actually failing her this badly? Tears blurred my vision. My hands were shaking. Mom chose Dad as her lifeline. Dad looked completely exhausted and exasperated: "Your birthday is January 8th." Mom nodded and hovered her hand over the buzzer again. But she was suddenly stopped by a visibly tense Caleb. "Mom, did you hear him clearly?" "What date is it? Repeat it back to me!" Under Caleb's intense insistence, Mom repeated "January 8th" three times before she was allowed to press the button. But Mom didn't speak. I could see her tension. Fighting through the agonizing pain in my heart, I forced myself to comfort her: "Don’t be scared, Mom. Just answer this one last question, and it’s all over." Mom smiled at me. But the answer that came out of her mouth plunged me into an abyss of ice. "My birthday is... January 9th!" The air instantly solidified. The host tried to save it immediately: "Your husband stated your birthday is January 8th." "Lillian, you must have misspoken. Please, say it one more time!" But Mom’s gaze was unyielding: "I didn't misspeak. I said it wrong on purpose." The audience exploded into chaos. My heart ached so badly I couldn't sit up straight. The nurse reached out to cut the video feed, but I stopped her. "Mom... why did you get it wrong on purpose again?" I choked out, my voice shivering. Mom’s eyes were full of tears, but her tone was that of a deeply aggrieved victim: "It’s all your father's fault!" Not just my dad, but everyone in the studio was utterly bewildered. My dad had literally just given her the correct answer. What had he done wrong? Under the host’s pressing questioning, Mom wiped her tears and revealed the "truth." "A few weeks ago was our twentieth wedding anniversary. It was also my birthday." "But my husband, Robert Hayes, forgot the date!" "Robert! Didn't you swear to me that my birthday was January 9th? Well, now I'm making your wish come true!" Veins popped out on my dad's forehead. He was shaking with rage. "I admit, I accidentally got the date wrong." "But during those days, I was working back-to-back double shifts for three days straight just to make enough money for Chloe’s medical bills! I was exhausted and delirious, so I mixed it up!" "I apologized to you afterward! I drove Uber Eats every night for three weeks straight to save up enough to buy you a gold bracelet to make up for it! Are you still not satisfied?!" Mom didn't say a word. She just lowered her head and kept wiping her tears. The countdown was rapidly decreasing. The pain in my chest had transformed into a searing, fiery agony. Cold sweat soaked through my hospital gown. Dad begged her, pleading with her to just say the correct answer, get the money, and send me into surgery. But Mom remained entirely unmoved. My heart finally died. It turned out my life was nothing but a tool for my mother to discipline her family. The countdown had three minutes left. Using every last ounce of strength in my body, I reached out and shut off the live stream. The doctors and nurses in the room all had red, tear-filled eyes. My voice was a barely audible whisper, but it was absolute: "Doctor, I want to sign an organ donation agreement." "And, after I die, I require that my mother be forced to watch the entire organ procurement process from start to finish!" Mom, you love teaching people lessons, don't you? Well today, I am going to teach you a lesson! The exact second I finished signing my name, a catastrophic surge of pain ripped through my entire body. Everything went black. In the final second before my consciousness vanished entirely, I heard my mother’s voice screaming through the TV broadcast in the background: "Why are you all panicking?!" "Chloe has had this condition for months! She isn't just going to drop dead in a single second!" Driven by sheer desperation, my father actually knelt on the floor in front of the entire nation, begging her for forgiveness, swearing he would never forget another important date again. Mom finally gave the correct answer in the absolute last second before the countdown hit zero. But, it was already too late. Chapter 4 In the resuscitation room, the doctors were desperately doing chest compressions. But my heartbeat was fading fast. My lead surgeon shouted: "We have to operate right now!" But the prize money hadn't hit my account yet. I only had a few hundred dollars to my name. Per hospital protocol, they could only provide standard life-saving measures, not the massive experimental surgery. As my consciousness drifted, I thought I saw my mother. Mom, you knew perfectly well that I was in mortal danger every single second. Why did you keep getting it wrong on purpose to waste time? Mom, do you really not love me? The doctor’s compressions were getting harder and harder. I could almost hear the sickening crack of my own ribs. Mom, I really can't hold on much longer... If you could just come see me one last time, I wouldn't blame you anymore. But I waited and waited. Shot after shot of epinephrine was injected into my veins, but my breathing continued to fail. The heart monitors blared their warning alarms. According to the rules, if the funds didn't clear, they couldn't perform the surgery. The surgeon was furious and called the production team directly: "Didn't she get the answer right?! Why hasn't the money hit the hospital account yet?!" The production team was helpless. "We originally wanted to wire the money directly to the hospital, but her mother insisted on physical cash!" "They are probably driving to the hospital with the cash right now." That final, fragile breath I was holding onto completely snapped. The EKG flatlined into a solid, silent line. In that moment, I heard my family arguing in the hallway. "Chloe is hanging by a thread! Why did you insist on cash?!" Mom sounded completely self-righteous: "Three years ago, you got scammed out of $200 online!" "Digital payments are too dangerous. Haven't you learned your lesson?" "Cash is the only safe way! Today I am finally teaching you a lesson about financial security!" Dad sounded like he was losing his mind, his footsteps frantic. "Fine! Fine! Cash is safe!" "But what about Chloe?! Every second Chloe waits, she is closer to death!" Mom sounded incredibly annoyed: "Will you stop talking?!" "If Chloe is in danger, it's because you cursed her with your negative attitude!" "Chloe was perfectly fine this morning! How could anything happen to her this afternoon?" Inside the resuscitation room, the doctor was slowly pulling a white sheet over my face. Utterly oblivious, my mother pushed open the door to my empty hospital room. "Chloe! Mommy brought the money!"
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "397475", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel