Ten years after the falling out with my mother, she got sick.

My spoiled younger sister dumped her at the hospital without a second thought.

For the last three years of her life, it was my savings—every last dollar—that kept her alive.

In her final month, I stumbled across her will.

A check for ten million dollars. To my sister.

A handwritten birthday card. To me.

She avoided my eyes.

"The inheritance was always meant for your sister. You came back to take care of me on your own."

"You ran away from home back then because Mom only loved your sister and ignored you, didn't you?"

"Now Mom's dragging herself through this illness, and all she can manage is a card for you. Why are you still upset?"

I laughed.

Tore the card to shreds and ground them under my heel.

Then I turned and walked out of the room.

"Take her off life support. We're done with treatment."

1.

"Ma'am, are you saying you want to remove all the equipment? The patient will suffer greatly!"

"Ma'am, your mother just finished chemotherapy—she can't handle this!"

"That's right. Remove it. Discharge her. Now."

I kept walking, brooking no argument.

Mom stared at me in disbelief.

My sister shot to her feet.

She clutched the freshly signed will, trembling with righteous fury.

"Have you lost your mind? Mom's like this, and you want to pull all her life support? Send her home to die?"

"How can you be so heartless! I won't let you do this!"

Mom's eyes glistened as she looked at my sister, gripping her hand like a lifeline.

I turned back.

Looked at this sister who had shown up exactly twice since Mom got sick.

And let out a cold laugh.

"I need your permission?"

"From day one of Mom's illness—who paid the medical bills? Me. Who bought the supplements? Me."

"Even the caregiver's twenty-eight-hundred-dollar monthly salary comes out of my pocket. Have you contributed a single cent?"

"Now I'm done paying. Every medical service I've been funding? I'm pulling it. Got a problem with that?"

"I—"

My sister choked.

Then her eyes reddened.

"No! I can't watch Mom suffer! You can't do this!"

"Fine. I won't."

I made a sweeping after you gesture.

"This room plus all the medical equipment runs thirty thousand a month. You cover it, and Mom stays. Go ahead."

"I..."

Her face flushed.

Her fingers tightened around that will.

Mom started coughing.

She looked at me the same way she always had when I was little—with that familiar disappointment.

"Your sister just graduated. Where's she supposed to get that kind of money? You've been working for years. You have money and won't spend it, but you'll bully your sister? What kind of person does that?"

"Fine. You won't pay for treatment, then don't. I raised an ungrateful wretch. Sorry for being such a burden. I'll leave on my own."

She got out of bed.

Her frail body made it two steps before she collapsed in the doorway.

Right where everyone passing through the corridor could see.

My sister rushed over and dropped to her knees beside Mom, tears streaming down her face.

"We were three when Dad died. All these years, Mom was both father and mother to us. She worked herself into the ground for us—and you're kicking her out over some medical bills?"

"How can you be so heartless!"

A crowd gathered instantly.

Mom burst into tears.

"I know children won't take care of you when you're old. This is my own fault. You don't have to throw me out—I'll go home and wait to die on my own."

"Oh, ma'am, please get up!"

A young woman rushed forward to help Mom to her feet.

One look at her skeletal frame, and the girl's eyes went red.

"Lady, you're going too far! Treating an elderly person like this—when you're the one sick in bed someday, don't expect anyone to take care of you!"

"Exactly! You've gone too far!"

"The younger one is so much better—she only has eyes for her mother."

"Look how thin your mother's gotten! And who do you think she did that for?"

I laughed, though there was no humor in it.

"You're right. I'm throwing out my own mother. I'm the ungrateful one. But Mom—" I met her eyes. "Tell me. Who exactly did you waste away for? In all these twenty-some years of sacrifice, was any of it ever for me?"

Mom dabbed at her eyes. "How... how can you say that? If I wasn't doing it for you, who else would it be for?"

"Liar."

A bitter smile twisted my lips.

"When I was eighteen, Susan claimed I hit her. You didn't ask for my side—you just slapped me across the face. Ten times. When I said I was leaving, you know what you told me?"

I let the words hang.

"You said if I had the guts, I could die out there for all you cared. You said Susan was the only daughter you needed."

The color drained from Mom's face.

Susan stepped forward, panic flickering in her eyes. "Trudy, you—"

"You don't get to speak."

I cut her off.

"Susan Simmons, I'm not going to dig up every time you framed me. But right now? You have zero right to call me unfilial."

"The only thing you did when Mom got sick was make a phone call. That's it. For three years—three years—who was here? Who took care of her? Did you spend a single dollar? Lift a single finger? Did you drain your savings down to nothing for her?"

Susan looked away.

I laughed coldly.

"Three years without a visit. But the second there's an inheritance? Suddenly you're the devoted daughter."

"Enough!"

Mom's expression hardened. "Your sister didn't visit because she was preparing for graduate school! She cared about me just as much—she texted me every single day!"

Her voice rose.

"You're the one I see through. I know you only came back for the money. You disappeared for years, and now suddenly you show up? You think I can't tell?"

The crowd turned on me, disapproval written across their faces.

"Young lady, don't burn your bridges. You can't put a price on family."

"That's right. A mother knows her daughter best. If she's leaving everything to the younger one, it's because she knows exactly what kind of person you are. Two-faced, probably."

Susan wiped at her eyes, her lashes glistening.

I looked at Mom, my smile razor-thin.

"She couldn't visit because of grad school. Fine. What about me? I quit my job to take care of you."

The room went still.

Before anyone could react, I snatched the will from Susan's hands. Then I pulled out the stack of hospital receipts I'd kept—three years' worth—and threw them into her lap.

"I spent ten years saving up a million dollars. Every cent of it went to you. You wouldn't even buy yourself a new towel, so I thought you were struggling. I scraped together everything I had for your medical bills."

My voice cracked.

"And the whole time, you had ten million. You were never short on money. You just wanted to make sure Susan got every last penny."

"What?!"

Even the young woman supporting Mom stared with wide eyes.

I laughed—a hollow, broken sound.

"What about me? I gave you a million dollars over all these years. Do I just not matter? Am I supposed to be nothing but a stepping stone for my sister?"

"Grandma, you..."

The young woman picked up one of the receipts, disbelief spreading across her face.

"You had ten million dollars, and you didn't spend any of it? You just... bled your older daughter dry?"

"That's not—"

Mom started to explain, but a visitor from the next room couldn't hold back any longer.

"That's enough! I've watched this girl run herself ragged for three years. She sleeps three hours a night. Works harder than any hired nurse. Ma'am, playing favorites is one thing, but this is beyond the pale."

Every pair of eyes in the room shifted—and the way they looked at the two of them changed completely.

"Grandma, you're playing favorites!"

"You've got ten million dollars—either pay for your own treatment or don't blame your eldest daughter for being heartless!"

"Exactly! If not her, make your younger daughter pay!"

Mom's eyes reddened.

"Susan's still just a child. How could I ask her for money?"

I let out a cold laugh.

I pushed past Susan and strode out.

I didn't look back.

After leaving the hospital, I headed for my rental apartment.

The Audi I'd saved up to buy five years ago—that was gone too, sold to cover Mom's medical bills.

I stumbled onto the subway in a daze.

My phone buzzed with a message from Mom:

You just left like that? Abandoned your mother alone at the hospital? They're already trying to discharge me.

I was exhausted beyond words:

Don't you have money? Just pay the bill.

Absolutely not! Your sister has so many expenses ahead of her! That money is for her!

Then go home and wait to die.

I never knew I was capable of saying something so vicious.

The moment I hit send, I broke down sobbing.

Everyone on the train turned to stare.

I couldn't bring myself to care.

All these years—I'd lost my job, my savings, my car.

All because of that tiny flicker of hope for a mother-daughter bond. The fantasy that before she died, we might finally mend things between us.

That I could show her I wasn't the bully of a sister that Susan always made me out to be.

That she'd finally see me as her daughter too.

But in the end, none of that seemed to matter to her.

She knew I'd never actually abandon her.

She had nothing to fear.

By the time I got off the subway, my eyes were swollen and raw.

I unlocked my door—and froze.

The apartment was packed with people.

"Uncle? Uncle Chen? Uncle Wei? What are you all—"

I stared at the crowd of relatives in disbelief.

At the center of them sat Mom, weeping.

She clutched her phone tight.

"I never imagined... I raised her all those years, and she tells me to go die!

"She abandoned me and ran off on her own—but not a single day went by that I didn't think about her.

"When she came back to take care of me, I thought she'd finally remembered what family meant. But the moment she heard Susan was getting more of the inheritance, she told me to drop dead.

"How much longer do I even have? She couldn't keep up the act for that long?"

I pulled out my phone.

The family group chat—the one I'd muted ages ago—had 99+ unread messages.

I scrolled up. The very first message was a screenshot Mom had posted.

Our conversation.

Go home and wait to die.

The words burned.

"Trudy Simmons, your father died young! If it weren't for your mother, do you think you'd have survived this long?"

"Apologize to her right now! If we hadn't rushed over, she would've jumped off the building!"

"Trudy, you disappeared for ten years. Your sister stayed by your mother's side—of course she's been there more than you! You don't fulfill your duties as a daughter, but you want a bigger share? How can anyone be this heartless?"

Mom choked back a sob.

"It's fine. It's fine. After all these years, I've made my peace.

"If she doesn't want to call me her mother, that's her choice. I've done everything I could. My own daughter won't take care of me? Fine—I'd rather die than be a burden!"

She stood up, trembling, and lurched toward the window.

Everyone rushed to hold her back.

"Trudy Simmons! Get on your knees! The Simmons family doesn't raise ungrateful wolves like you!"

"If you don't kneel and apologize, don't you ever call yourself a Simmons again! Your father was a good man—don't drag his name through the mud!"

"After you apologize, take your mother back to the hospital and care for her properly. The whole family will be watching!"