My boss gives me 200 thousand dollars in cash so I can pay his workers their salaries. I leave the house to buy some envelopes to put the money in, but that's when my father lends the money to our neighbor so they can buy a house.

I question him about it, but he says I know nothing about forging relationships. Even my mother and brother blame me for not keeping my things properly—they say I'm dumb for leaving money lying around when I know my father likes to lend money to others.

Later, my boss fires me but doesn't call the cops. All he wants is for me to repay him.

To do so, my father finds me a high-paying job. It's only when I get there that I realize I'm supposed to be an old man's housekeeper. On my first day there, he violates me.

I want to call the cops, but my father tells me to be forgiving of him. After that, the old man's daughter thinks I seduced her father and has me beaten to death.

When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day my father lent money to our neighbor.

"You don't have to return to the company after getting the money, Natalie. Head straight to the construction site in the afternoon to pay the workers." My boss stuffed a bank card into my hand. Only then did I feel like I'd truly been reborn.

In my past life, I'd gone to the bank to withdraw 20 thousand dollars after leaving the company. I'd headed home after that, afraid that I would lose the money before paying the construction workers. I'd locked the money in my bedroom before leaving the house, thinking of buying envelopes in which to put the workers' pay.

I hadn't expected Dad to take the money during the hour I was gone. He lent it to our next-door neighbor so they could buy a house. I'd wanted to get the money back, but Dad had stopped me.

"What do you think you're doing? How can you ask someone to return the money when it's already been lent? How do you expect us to be friendly from now on?"

I'd been furious. "That's my company's money that you lent to someone else—this is embezzlement of funds! If my boss reports this to the police, I'll have to go to jail!"

Dad had been unfazed. "Your boss is filthy rich—he wouldn't care about 20 thousand dollars."

I'd known I wouldn't be able to talk any sense into him, so I'd left the house to knock on the neighbor's door. Dad had caught up with me just as the door had opened. Before I could ask them to return the money, Dad had dragged me back home and slapped me after shutting the door.

"How could I have a daughter like you, Natalie York? You know nothing about interpersonal relationships! Tell your boss that I've borrowed the money from him—that should be enough to pacify him!"

That had made my blood boil. "You borrowed the money from him? You don't have a job or any savings—why would anyone lend you anything?"

Dad had been pissed by that. He'd kicked me to the floor and started punching me. "How dare you talk to me like that, you ingrate? I'm your father!"

At that moment, Mom and my brother, Sean York, had entered the apartment. They hadn't even batted an eye when they'd seen me getting beaten up.

Mom had merely sneered upon learning the reason for the abuse. "This is what you deserve. You know your father loves loaning money to others, yet you didn't keep the money properly."

The matter had ended with me coming clean to my boss. He hadn't called the cops on me after finding out; he'd merely withdrawn another 20 thousand dollars. However, he hadn't dared to keep me around anymore. He'd fired me after making me sign an IOU. After that incident, Dad had landed me in more trouble.

I couldn't help feeling like Dad was still punching me when I thought about my past life. I looked up at my boss and asked whether I could pay the workers in the morning—I told him I was afraid to carry so much money around. He agreed after some thought.

After withdrawing the money, I headed straight to the construction site, not daring to delay anything. I only relaxed after seeing the workers receive their pay.

When I got home, I saw Dad unlocking the door to my room. "Why are you going into my room, Dad?"

He jumped at my words and smiled at me. "Perfect timing. Do you have any money? Could you lend me some?"

"Why do you need it?"

"Our next-door neighbor wants to buy a house and asked me whether I could help," he said. "Give me some—this is the first step to building a good relationship with them."

I rolled my eyes at him. Everyone in our residential area knew what a fool he was. He would help out with anything as long as he was approached, whether in terms of monetary or physical assistance.

My family had never had savings—Dad would lend the money to someone as soon as any of us saved anything.

I said bluntly, "I don't have anything. You can ask Sean—I heard him telling Mom that he wanted to buy a car. I guess he has some money saved up."

Dad's eyes lit up at my words. But of course, he wouldn't call Mom or Sean to ask them about the money. He just returned to his bedroom to search for a bank card.

He was such a lover of loaning others money that while still in high school, I'd known better and reminded Mom to set up a bank account without his knowledge. Life would only become harder without it.

She'd talked about me not knowing anything because I was young, but she'd still opened the bank account. Over the years, she'd saved about 40 thousand dollars in that account—it was money she'd set aside for Sean's marriage and for him to buy a car.

In my past life, no one in my family had touched the money despite knowing I could possibly end up in jail without it. Yet on the day I'd become an old man's housekeeper to make some money, Sean had bought a new car.

Dad turned the house upside down before finally finding the bank card and a savings passbook hidden in a vase. He cursed when he saw the balance. "Blast it! Gwen Lynch! How dare you save all this money behind my back?"

After that, he made to leave the house. I asked, "Aren't you going to ask Mom what the money is for?"

"What's there to ask? Every dime in this household is the fruit of my labor." He left. When he returned, he had a check for 40 thousand dollars.

He asked our neighbor to drop by and handed him the check. Our neighbor said, "This much? I only need 20 thousand dollars."

"Take it all." Dad sounded as generous as a millionaire. "Use the remainder for your renovations."

Our neighbor said he would sign an IOU, but Dad said, "You'll be insulting me by signing that rubbish."

Our neighbor left happily, and Dad looked pleased. I stood up and said, "It's best to have an IOU when you lend others money, Dad. He might not return the money without it."

He rolled his eyes at me. "Being owed a favor is much better than being owed money. This is the way of the world—you still have plenty to learn."

He loved talking about these things. It was somewhat of an obsession for him. According to him, none of his relatives wanted to have anything to do with his family because of how poor they'd been. Because of that, he overcompensated by helping anyone who needed it.

If anyone needed money, he would lend it to them. If anyone needed physical help, he would also be there to help. He even wanted the whole family to do it with him. Many relatives were willing to socialize with him because of this, but we all knew it was just because they wanted to take advantage of him.

…

I wasn't fired in this life because I'd successfully paid the workers. I didn't expect Dad to soon land me in hot water again, though.

When I got back home after work one day, there was a stranger at home. Dad told me the man was a friend of his by the surname of Lawson. He was the owner of a small factory, and it turned out the taxation department would be checking his accounts in the near future.

His wife had been his previous accountant, but everything was in a mess. So, he wanted a professional to help him with it.

I looked through the ledger he brought and said bluntly, "I can't do it."

Dad's expression darkened, but he didn't fly off the handle with Mr. Lawson around. Instead, he lowered his voice and said, "Take a better look. Doing the accounts for such a small factory must be easier than doing your company's accounts. Why don't you just lend him a hand and get it done?"

I returned the ledger to Mr. Lawson and said, "There are many problems with your accounts, Mr. Lawson. I would advise you to come clean to the taxation department as soon as possible."

The accounts weren't just in a mess. It was evident they'd done some covering up. It sounded like Mr. Lawson only wanted someone to tidy up his bookkeeping, but he was actually asking me to perfect the shoddy job.

Faking a company's accounts was illegal. I didn't want to get arrested because of a stranger.

Mr. Lawson paled at my words. Then, he hurriedly left. Dad ran after him.

I returned to my room to take a shower. I'd already taken some of my clothes off when Dad suddenly barged in, making me scream. He slapped me and roared, "Who the heck do you think you are?"

"Do you think you're a big deal just because you're an accountant? You need to help others when I tell you to! What was with all that crap?" Dad shouted while pointing at me.

"Do you know how hard it is for me to keep a good relationship with others? You ruined everything with a single sentence! I already promised Mr. Lawson I would help him. You have to tidy those accounts for him!"

I held my head high. "I won't do it. Anyone else who's interested can take it on! He wants me to falsify his accounts. I'll get arrested if the authorities find out!"

"Do you think it's that easy for them to catch you? You're just lazy!" Dad rolled up his sleeves and raised a hand, wanting to hit me again.

Just then, someone opened the front door, and Mom and Sean came in. I ran to them and hid behind Mom, but she pushed me forward when she saw how menacing Dad looked.

"Just let him hit you since you've pissed him off again. Don't drag me into this!"

Mom and Sean would always stay out of Dad's hair whenever he hit me. That was how things had been since I'd been a child. They were deathly afraid he would vent his anger on them, too. It was rather disheartening for me.

After hearing that Dad wanted to hit me because I'd refused to falsify Mr. Lawson's accounts, Sean frowned. "You're being insensible, Natalie. All you need to do is falsify accounts, not kill yourself. You deserve a beating for embarrassing Dad in front of his friend."

Mom chimed in. "Exactly. Don't tell me you don't know what to do. We're both accountants—I know what you're capable of."

Her words reminded me of something. Dad was already retired, but Mom wasn't. She even wanted to delay her retirement for a couple of years.

She worked as an accountant at a state-owned company. The benefits there were good, and her pay was high. She'd done everything she could to also get Sean a job there after he'd graduated.

Meanwhile, after I'd graduated and passed the interview for a job there, she'd pulled some strings to remove me from the list of successful applicants. She'd been worried I would join her department, which would lead to her being unable to delay her retirement.

I clenched my fists at the thought of that. I turned to Dad, immediately softening my attitude. "I'm sorry, Dad. I shouldn't have said those things with someone else around. I do know how to falsify the accounts, but I don't think I'm experienced enough for that.

"I'm worried I'll mess things up if I take on the job. Mom is more experienced than I am. How about you ask her to do it?"

Dad turned to look at Mom at my words. She rolled her eyes at me before saying, "I've been pretty busy at work lately, Jim. The accounts—"

He cut her off. "Nat is right. She's inexperienced, so you should do it."

Mom wanted to say something else but swallowed her words when he glared at her. He not only forced her to falsify the accounts but also made her do them overnight.

She stayed up all night and sighed while working in the living room. She didn't know how to use a computer to do the work, so she only had a calculator to rely on.

I slept soundly throughout the night and woke up the next day for work, feeling refreshed.

Before leaving the house, Mom glowered at me. One look at the accounts yesterday had told me that they weren't just a mess. Mom would definitely end up in jail if she were to cover things up and get found out by the authorities.

That was none of my business, though.

…

I went out that weekend. It was much too scary at home—I wanted to find an opportunity to move out. I returned home after a day of viewing listings and lay on my bed, trying to decide which was the best.

When I looked at my bookshelf, I saw that a series of treasured novels I'd placed there were gone. They were a collector's edition and a gift my late friend had given me. I'd wrapped them up to preserve them.

My mind went blank. Then, I rushed to the living room. "Where are my collector's edition novels, Dad?"

He jumped at my voice but soon regained his composure. "I gave them to someone."

I snarled, "Who?"

"What does it matter to you?"

My blood boiled. "Who the heck did you give them to?"

"Mr. Lawson." He gave me an icy look. "You should be glad he liked them. Otherwise, you would've thoroughly offended him."

"He could've been raging mad for all I care. He's not anyone to me, so what does it matter if I've pissed him off? Those books were something my late friend left for me! Did you think about how I would feel after giving them away?" My tears fell at that. The grievances I'd suffered in both lifetimes overwhelmed me.

Dad was taken aback for a moment. Then, he stood up and raised a hand to hit me. "What the heck! Are you saying my pride is worth less than a bunch of dumb books? You can just buy them again! It's not like they've gone out of print! You've been really rebellious lately. I have to teach you a lesson!"

I couldn't take it anymore. I charged to the kitchen and grabbed a knife, swinging it in the air. "Fine, then. I'll kill you if you don't teach me a lesson! One of us has to die today!"

Sean held me from behind and snatched the knife from me. "Have you lost your mind, Natalie? How could you swing a knife at Dad? You know what he's like—you only have yourself to blame for not keeping your things safe!"

I looked at him. Since childhood, he'd always been the type to make snide remarks when I was being mistreated. There he was, defending Dad just because I'd brandished a knife.

This family was rotten to the core.

Sean frowned at the look in my eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that? You're the one in the wrong here! Why do you have to make such a big deal out of a bunch of books? Dad only likes giving things to others because it'll benefit us. It'll benefit our family!"

I sneered. "You're only saying this because your things aren't the ones being given away."

He said magnanimously, "I wouldn't say a word even if he were to give my things away."

Just then, Mom let out a piercing scream from the bedroom. She ran out with her savings passbook. "Where's my money? It's gone!" She looked crazed.

Sean asked, "What money?"

She answered in despair, "The money to buy your car and pay for your wedding."