My cousin Chloe wanted to go to Paris for an advanced ballet intensive. My mother asked me for $15,000 to pay for it. I took a screenshot of my bank account balance and sent it to her—exactly fifteen thousand dollars and twenty cents. Not a penny more. Five seconds later, her message popped up: [Keep a hundred bucks for groceries, transfer the rest to me right now.] 1 Before my finger could even touch the screen, another message from my mom popped up. "By the way, when are you coming home? Mom is making that chicken stew you love." "Next month, my CD at the bank matures. I won't be short a single penny, and I'll pay you back immediately." Home? I had actually gone home just yesterday. A former classmate was having her wedding in our hometown. Last week, I specifically mentioned this to my mom, telling her I would stay the night after the reception and head back to the city early the next morning. She agreed enthusiastically on the phone, saying she would leave the door unlocked for me. But when I arrived at the door, I found the deadbolt locked from the inside. I was just about to knock when my mother's voice drifted out from inside. "As soon as your sister gets off work tonight, I'll ask her for the money. Don't worry, you are going to that ballet program." "Aunt Sarah, will Maya agree to this? It's $15,000, after all. And you still haven't paid her back for what you borrowed before." "Why wouldn't she be willing? She has the softest heart." My mom chuckled, a hint of disdain in her tone. "Let's be honest, she's plain-looking and has a terrible personality. If it wasn't for the fact that she's making a six-figure salary now, do you think I'd be willing to cater to her?" Chloe asked in a sweet, coaxing voice, "Then why did you buy her an iPhone right after high school graduation, and give her all that cash?" My mom's voice pitched up sharply. "You silly girl! If I hadn't waited on her hand and foot after high school and buttered her up, do you think she would have majored in Computer Science? Remember my coworker, Mrs. Smith's son? He graduated from a no-name state college and barely makes fifty grand a year. You've been graduated for a while now; have you ever calculated how much we've spent on all your networking and connections?" My mom's tone dripped with absolute indulgence. "Oh, you! You've almost drained my entire retirement fund. If I hadn't been far-sighted enough to make sure Maya could subsidize us, how would you be living such a good life right now!" Chloe cheered happily. "Aunt Sarah, I knew you loved me even more than my own mom does! Next time I'm back in New York, you have to come with me, and I'll take you out to have some fun!" "You got it! My Chloe is the sweetest!" I had drank at the wedding banquet, and my stomach was churning. I wanted to throw up but couldn't. My first reaction in that moment was actually to thank myself for not replacing that cheap, non-soundproof front door. I drove through the night, straight back to Chicago. 2 My mom's messages kept coming in nonstop. I just turned off my phone and went to sleep. Early the next morning, I went straight to the office to work. In this world, the only person who will never betray you is yourself. But when it rains, it pours. At half past ten, my stomach suddenly started cramping in agony again. At that moment, my phone vibrated. My mom's texts were like a death warrant. "Why aren't you replying? What are you doing?" "When can you wire that $15,000 I told you about yesterday?" ... I replied to her: "My stomach hurts. We'll talk later." "Why does your stomach hurt again? I tell you to cook for yourself every day, but you insist on eating takeout. If your stomach doesn't hurt, whose will?" I couldn't be bothered to argue with her. I work overtime every single day; where would I find the time to cook for myself??? It was actually laughable. People like her, who talk a big game but never actually sacrifice anything, still manage to earn the reputation of being caring and maternal. I can only blame myself for being too stupid in the past to see through these cheap tricks. "Why is your face so pale?" My coworker, Harper, walked over holding a coffee and handed me a cup of hot water. "Did you eat something bad?" I opened my mouth, but it hurt so much I couldn't make a sound. I could only wave my hand. She grabbed me and pulled me up. "Don't try to tough it out. I'm taking you to the hospital." The lights in the ER were blindingly bright. When the nurse handed me the test results, her eyes carried a trace of pity. "We are considering the possibility of a malignant tumor. We recommend further pathology tests." I stared at that line on the medical report, suddenly feeling like life was a sick joke. Just last night, I was running the numbers. I figured if I ground it out at the company for a few more years, I'd save enough for a down payment and finally move out of my cramped apartment. After that, I would never give my mom another dime. I wanted to travel abroad, eat my favorite foods, buy clothes I actually liked. For the rest of my life, I was only going to love myself. But now, fate had blindsided me with a sledgehammer. 3 It was already late into the night when I got home. Harper had been comforting me the whole time. She even helped me request a day off work tomorrow so I could rest properly before discussing next steps. My mind was a chaotic mess. To make matters worse, my mom's voice calls started flooding in. I declined them and texted: "I'm busy." "Busy doing what? Did you take what I said seriously? Your sister has to pay the tuition the day after tomorrow. If you wait any longer, it'll be too late." "Don't worry, I will definitely pay this money back to you." Heh. Believing she would pay me back was like believing the sun would rise in the west. The empty promises she had painted for me over the years could fill my entire living room. "When your dad gets his bonus, I'll buy you a new backpack." "After we pay for Chloe's recital, I'll use the leftover money to buy you that dress." "Mom will hold onto your Christmas money for you. I'll add a little extra to it and give it back to you later." ... In the end, they were all just bubbles that popped into nothing. 4 I took a deep breath and called her. "Mom, I really want to ask you something. Have you ever truly seen me as your daughter? I've always been curious—why have you disliked me since I was little?" My mom sounded confused. "Why are you asking this all of a sudden? You're letting your imagination run wild again. Stop talking nonsense. When is the money—" Tears streamed down my face. I took a picture of the medical report and sent it to her. "I'm sick. I need to keep this money for my medical treatments. You guys will have to figure something else out. And if you have any money left, please lend me some." My mom immediately sent back a voice memo: "Stop joking around, Maya. Don't copy those trashy internet pranks and joke about getting cancer. It's bad luck! Your sister is just one step away from the finish line. When she gets back from this intensive, she's guaranteed to become a principal dancer! When she makes it big, she'll make sure you're taken care of..." Suddenly, I didn't want to hold it in anymore. I gripped the phone and said weakly, "Do I owe you guys? If she wants money, she can go sell her blood or a kidney!! Do not come looking for me!" After sending that, I shut my phone off completely. I pulled the covers over my head and cried until I was exhausted. Then, I secretly promised myself: it's fine. This is the very last time I will ever shed tears for people who aren't worth it. 5 Chloe is the daughter of my aunt. My aunt and my mom were both excellent test-takers from a small town. They both got into a great university in New York. But their destinies could not have been more different. After graduating, my mom moved back to our hometown and married my dad. The two of them lived a quiet life in our small suburban county. My aunt, however, stayed in New York and married a wealthy construction magnate. Back in the early 2000s, my uncle's monthly income was more than my parents could save in several years. Every time my mom saw my aunt's glamorous life, an unmistakable resentment would flash in her eyes. My aunt was well-off and very generous when it came to spending money on Chloe. From a young age, Chloe excelled in piano, dance, and art. Wherever she went, she was treated like a princess. During the holidays, my mom would only buy me new clothes if I scored straight A's. Meanwhile, Chloe was already wearing Burberry. If Chloe's family hadn't met with disaster later on, I probably would have just remained a distant relative to her, rarely crossing paths. 6 I lay in my apartment for a full day and night. My phone was piled high with dozens of missed calls, a dense, overwhelming list. After clearing my work messages, I saw the family group chat was marked with "99+". Scrolling up, it was entirely a one-sided tirade from my mom. She claimed I cursed at her and screamed at her. Some relatives in the chat were trying to play peacemaker, while others were cursing me for being an ungrateful wretch. Some even told me to be the bigger person and help pay for Chloe's tuition. If this were the past, my eyes would be red and I'd be crying by now. But today, my heart felt like it was encased in a thick layer of ice. Not a single ripple of emotion. I directly tagged Chloe: "@Chloe, your aunt is going crazy in here on your behalf, and you're just playing dead?" Chloe replied instantly: "Maya, why did you suddenly turn into this? I promise I will pay you back the money. I can write you a promissory note!" "What good is a promissory note? Go to a bank and get a loan! Or do you know perfectly well that you have to pay the bank back, but you think my money is just free?" I tagged Chloe again: "You are truly shameless. Playing the cuckoo bird and taking over my nest is one thing—I couldn't do anything about my mom preferring you. But the way you salivate over my money just shows how incredibly greedy you are. It completely shatters your whole 'innocent, artistic fairy' persona." My uncle chimed in: "Maya, there's no overnight grudge between a mother and daughter. Besides, helping Chloe is helping yourself. When she's rich and famous, won't you get to bask in her glory?" "Oh? Then how about you pay that fifteen grand for her? You can have all the glory." The group chat instantly went dead silent. Sure enough, the needle only hurts when it pricks your own skin. I typed out one last line: "My mom seems to love raising other people's children. If any of you have kids you can't afford, feel free to give them to her. As for my money, don't any of you dare scheme for it." I left the group chat, and the world was finally quiet. 7 That night, Chloe sent me a voice message: "Can we just treat this money as a loan from you? I'll sign a legal loan agreement with you. And also, can you please stop joking about being sick to scare Aunt Sarah?" I let out a cold laugh. "Doesn't it exhaust you to put on this act every single day?" "What?" she asked, sounding utterly incredulous. "Actually, you really enjoy this feeling, don't you? One of your parents is dead, and the other abandoned you, but you managed to find the ultimate suckers to treat you like royalty, even willing to sacrifice their own biological daughter. Every time my mom showed you favoritism, you must have felt an incredible high, right? Look at you, Chloe, born to live a life of luxury. Everyone has to be crushed under your halo. Don't contact me again. You are genuinely disgusting." 8 The turning point in Chloe's life happened when she was eleven. A government construction project my uncle was managing collapsed, crushing several people to death. I don't know how many corrupt money trails were behind it, but in the end, he jumped off a building. My aunt fled to Miami, claiming she was going into business with a friend. Before she left, she dumped Chloe onto my mom. When she first arrived, Chloe was timid, like a startled kitten. But once she figured out the dynamics of my household, her true colors gradually started to show. First, she said she wanted to keep taking piano lessons, and then it was continuing her ballet training. Even at that young age, she knew exactly how to sweet-talk my mom. She told her to keep a ledger of all the expenses. She promised that when her mom came back to get her, they would pay my mom back in full. Our house only had two bedrooms and a living room. My mom said Chloe had never endured hardship, so my bedroom became her piano room and bedroom. My dad had no choice but to enclose the back porch and set up a small cot for me. In the winter, freezing winds howled through the cracks. Even buried under two heavy quilts, I would curl into a shivering ball. In the summer, there was no air conditioning. It was like a sauna. I could only curl up in a sleeping bag on the floor of my parents' room to survive the night. I brought it up to my mom, pointing out that my old room was big enough to fit two twin beds. She just glared at me. "Chloe grew up sleeping in a big bed. How could she possibly squeeze in with you?" My dad, frustrated, told me to sleep in the bed with my mom, and he moved to the porch. During their argument, Chloe walked out. "Uncle John, let Maya have her room back. I can go sleep on the porch." My mom's heart immediately ached for her. She quickly pulled Chloe into a hug to comfort her. I was so miserable back then that I even absurdly prayed to God every night, begging for my aunt to strike it rich quickly. Or, if that failed, for her to marry another rich man and hurry up and take Chloe away. I waited and waited. I waited and waited. I waited until I was almost done with middle school, and she still hadn't come to get Chloe. My dad couldn't take it anymore. He argued with my mom, his eyes red with anger. "Her own mother doesn't even care about her! Why should we?" My mom put her hands on her hips and screamed back: "Because I want to! I'm not using your money to raise her!" "Not using my money? Then who gets my paycheck? Her extracurriculars, her tutoring, all those clothes and shoes you buy her—which of those didn't cost money?" My dad suddenly found his spine. "I can't live like this anymore. If you don't send that kid back to your sister, we're getting a divorce!" After the screaming stopped, I peeked out from the porch door and asked, "If you get a divorce, who do I go with?" My mom shot me a vicious glare, then glared back at my dad. "John Miller, Maya stays with me! You can die without an heir for all I care!" My dad seemed to let out a sigh of relief. "Fine. Maya goes with you. I don't want the house; leave it to her." They went to file for divorce the very next day. My mom thought that by using me as a hostage to threaten my dad, he would definitely come crawling back, begging to remarry her. But by the time she realized my dad was serious, he had already found a new girlfriend at lightning speed. On the day my dad remarried, she grabbed my clothes and dragged me right into his wedding reception. She looked like she wanted to stab my dad to death. "Since you wanted to remarry so badly, you can take your daughter with you!" My dad and his new wife were left with nothing but embarrassment and anger. I was so humiliated I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I ran away amidst the chaos. But when I got home, I found the front door locked tight. My mom had taken Chloe and disappeared to who-knows-where. I went back to the wedding reception and waited until all the guests had left. The ending to that farce was that I stayed at my dad's new house for one night, and the next day, he dumped me back at the old house. He spoke with difficulty at the time: "Maya, you have to be tough. That house has my name on it, which means it's your house. No one can kick you out." I watched his back disappear at the end of the alley, my chest feeling suffocatingly tight. I had been abandoned by the whole world. No one wanted me. 9 My mom didn't come to bother me again. But my cousin told me that Chloe went abroad anyway. I said, "I know." Chloe had sent me a message saying, "No matter what you think, I will always get what I want. Actually, you're quite pathetic. In the end, you'll be left with absolutely nothing." I asked my cousin, where did they get the money? She said my mom had mortgaged the house I grew up in and took out a $30,000 loan. I suddenly had a very bad feeling. My year-end bonus last year was $25,000. My mom said she would keep it safe for me, and she had the bank card. I had been so blinded by anger earlier that I forgot all about it. Knowing my mom's character, she was absolutely capable of spending that money. But the fact that she was willing to take out a loan now meant that the money was already gone. I logged onto my online banking app to check. Just as I suspected, the balance was zero. I called my cousin back. "Wasn't Chloe's tuition only $15,000?" My cousin scoffed disdainfully. "That was before. Ever since you blocked Aunt Sarah, Chloe has been sweet-talking her every single day. She told her that from now on, she's her real daughter. At our family dinner last time, Aunt Sarah even announced it. She said she's acting like she never gave birth to you, and Chloe is her only daughter." "Oh, right. Chloe paints such beautiful, perfect illusions. She promised she'll take her on a European vacation in the future." My cousin gritted her teeth in anger just mentioning Chloe. Finally, she added, "Maya, since you've had a falling out, don't ever make up with her. It's not worth it." After I hung up the phone, three thousand dollars appeared in my bank account. "Maya, focus on getting your treatments first. Aside from life and death, everything else is trivial." When we were little, my cousin was just as unloved as I was. My uncle favored sons, and my aunt was obsessed with providing for her own younger brother. Their hearts were entirely devoted to their son and my aunt's brother. According to my uncle, she should have gone to work in a factory right after middle school. But she refused. She held onto a fierce determination, studying while working grueling hours, slowly upgrading her degree, and finally managed to pass the exams to get a secure government job in a rural township. Three thousand dollars was nearly half a year's salary for her. The only help I had ever given my cousin was getting on video calls to tutor her for her college entrance exams. It was such a trivial kindness, but she remembered it to this day. Thinking about this, my heart felt a complex swirl of emotions. 10 That night, another unknown number sent me a message: "From your freshman year of high school, I was a divorced single mother raising you and Chloe all by myself. I worked like a mule! Maya Miller, does your heart not ache at all? Even if Mom made mistakes, it shouldn't be enough for you to ignore me completely!" I blocked it immediately. A mule? That was Chloe's mule, not mine. As far as I was concerned, my mom had run out of tricks. Since she was out of tricks, it was time for me to use mine. 11 I had a nightmare that night, taking me right back to high school. My mom was incredibly busy back then. She seemed absolutely determined to prove that she was right, and that Chloe was getting better and better. She went to work on weekdays, and during winter and summer breaks, she accompanied Chloe to competitions all over the country. As for me, outside of studying, I had to do all the chores. The only lucky thing was that I didn't have to sleep on the porch anymore. After my dad remarried, my mom's emotional state grew increasingly anxious and volatile. This anxiety manifested in very specific ways: Chloe only had to take the kitchen trash out to the curb to earn a tidal wave of praise from my mom. But if I made a stir-fry slightly too salty, I would be screamed at for half the day. The more indifferent my expression was, the harder she screamed. During my senior year, I felt like I was suffocating at home, so I moved into the school dorms. That same year, my mom started hiring expensive private tutors for Chloe. She was banking on her getting into a top-tier dance conservatory. But the price for that was my monthly living allowance being slashed from $100 down to $30. Sometimes, it was zero. This constant robbing of Peter to pay Paul drove me to the brink of insanity, but I had no effective way to fix it. At the time, I had a childhood best friend named Leo. I eventually swallowed my pride and borrowed money from him. When it happened too many times, he started secretly stuffing a $20 bill into my desk every week. Leo's family lived just one street over from us. My mom eventually found out about it. One weekend when I came home, she was waiting for me in the living room, her face livid. She immediately started screaming: "Do you have any sense of shame?! You actually dare to take money from a male classmate! Are you sleeping with him?! Are you?!" She screamed at me for a full thirty minutes. I finally broke down. "You don't give me any money! Am I supposed to go steal or rob?! I only borrowed Leo's money, and it's not like I won't pay him back! If you care so much, then you give me the money! Why won't you give it to me?!" I pointed right at Chloe's nose and screamed, "You would rather spend all your money on an outsider than give your own biological daughter a dime! What kind of mother are you?!" After that fight, my mom slapped me across the face. I went back to the dorms that very night. On my way out, I took $300 from her drawer and left a note: "Raising me is your legal responsibility. If you push me any further, I'll drag us all down together." That was the moment I suddenly realized I had a truly stubborn temper. I was exactly like my grandmother. But I don't know if she suddenly grew a conscience or if she was genuinely terrified by my extreme reaction. My mom actually didn't scream at me, nor did she try to pick a fight. I took out $200 of that money and paid Leo back. I sat down and carefully ran the numbers. I could borrow Leo's study materials. As long as I ate as little as possible, I could successfully survive the last few months of senior year. But Leo refused to take the money. "There's no rush. You can pay me back after graduation. If it's not enough, just tell me! Aren't we best friends!" I studied like my life depended on it, channeling all my hatred and anger into the drive to move forward. When I stood in front of my mom holding an acceptance letter from an Ivy League university, she cried. It wasn't because she was happy for me. It was because Chloe had bombed her auditions. During that final month, Chloe had started dating someone. Her final scores were only high enough to get into a mediocre community college arts program. For a rare two months, my mom gave Chloe the cold shoulder. She threw me a graduation party, bought me a new laptop and phone, and gave me a lump sum of $3,000 for college. Looking at the gray hair at her temples, that tiny seedling of desire for maternal love inside me, like a seed soaked in rainwater, quietly poked its head out. Later on, she was generally fine with me. During my master's degree, to lessen her financial burden, I supported myself completely by tutoring. Chloe was also very friendly, and we managed to coexist peacefully. If I hadn't overheard their conversation that day, I never would have imagined my mom was capable of orchestrating such a massive, deceitful scheme.
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