Why did they treat me like this? I tried my best to please this family. I was never picky with food. As soon as I got home, I stayed silent and even avoided speaking loudly. I earned all my living expenses since childhood through my own hard work and frugality.

What about Ian?

As soon as he started school, my mother quickly bought him a new phone and computer. She even glorified it. "Your younger brother will become a big shot, unlike you. People like you will only end up in the gutter for the rest of your life, and there’s no way you can ever compare to your younger brother."

However, it was precisely a loser like me who saved Ian's life at the critical moment.

After learning he had escaped, I was so angry that I drove home overnight to make him turn himself in and explain.

The victim was an elderly man in his 80s with no children. He was extremely pitiful as he relied on collecting recyclables to make a living.

However, my mother slapped my face. "He's an old geezer who doesn't have many years left. Your brother is doing society a good deed by robbing him. Ian's now going to prison. As his older brother, how can you just sit by and do nothing? Take his place."

I almost could not believe my ears. "Mom, this is jail. My whole life is going to be ruined! He's your child, and I'm not?"

Perhaps the request was too outrageous, so I could no longer suppress my anger. I blurted out the question that had been hidden in my heart for years.

My mother turned her head away guiltily. "You're his older brother. Why can't you give Ian a bit of leeway?"

She was insane. How could she say something like that?

Seeing me turn to leave, my mother instantly pulled out a dagger she had prepared beforehand and held it to her neck. "If you disagree, I'll die in front of you today. I'm your only mother anyway. Think about it carefully. It's just a few years in prison."

Although she was threatening me, she dared not cut herself, carefully maintaining a distance.

She knew best that I was filial and could not bear to see anything happen to her. As long as she threatened me with her life, I would agree to any unreasonable request.

I had never imagined that my filial piety would become her bargaining chip. In the end, I sighed and walked into the police station.

My mother's smug voice reached my ears. "See? I told you he's just our slave; he'll do whatever we say. Now you can rest easy. It's alright that his future is ruined. You're my precious child."

It turned out that my mother would never accept me, no matter what I did.

I was prepared to spend years in prison, but I had never imagined Ian had a murder charge against him!

When I received the execution warrant, I trembled uncontrollably.

I called my mother, clinging to a last glimmer of hope. I hoped she would take me home after learning the truth. After all, she went through ten months of pregnancy to have me too.

However, she laughed out loud after hearing what I said. "Mason, who are you trying to convince with the clumsy lie? You're going to be executed? Do you really think I don't understand the law? I just asked you to do jail time. Do you have to go so far? Don't you think about others at all? I'm busy and don't have time for you. If you're so anxious to die, go ahead. Don't bother me!"

The call ended abruptly.

I stared at the white wall as tears streamed down my face.

A gunshot rang out, and my worthless life came to a complete end.

Although I had gone to prison for Ian, there were still some formalities to go through.

Ian and my mother reluctantly went to the police station and sat down on the chairs.

"Officer, where are Mason's documents? Bring them out for us to sign. I have to go car shopping with my son this afternoon. I don't have time to waste here."

The police officer looked at the two of them a bit strangely.

There was no sign of grief on their faces, despite having just lost a family member.

However, the police officer still added out of humanitarian concern, "No one expected something like this to happen. The kid was so young. Please accept my condolences."

My mother sneered. "Condolonces? What condolences? Isn't it only right that a scoundrel like him end up like this? Now that he's in jail, we can finally take a break. We're overjoyed."

All the people in the police station were stunned. They never expected that such a cold-blooded parent existed. They wondered if I had a long history of bad deeds that even my own mother could not stand me.

Unlike my mother's calm and indifferent attitude, Ian seemed a little anxious. He kept smoking at the door because he had too many cases against him. He was also afraid of being recognized.

A hand suddenly patted his shoulder. "You must be Ian."

He nearly jumped up in fright, but the police officer simply handed him an amulet. "Your brother left this behind before he left. Take it home."

I had never let that amulet out of my sight. I had a high fever when I was three, and my mother had specially gotten it to bless me. Back then, our relationship was not so strained, and this amulet held precious memories for me.

Whenever I felt I could not stand this household, I would take it out and take a good look at it.

"What kind of junk is this? What would he have to give us from prison? Is it something for him to play the victim again and get us to get him out?"

My mother saw the amulet and added with confusion, "Isn't this the one you bought for five dollars from a street vendor on the way back from the amusement park?"

It was like a bolt from the blue. The last shred of family affection I had clung to turned out to be just a figment of my imagination.

It was no wonder no one cared about me when I had a fever all day. They had gone to the amusement park I had always longed for.

A sharp pain shot through my heart, more agonizing than before I died. I wondered, 'Why... Why do this to me?'

Just as I was in despair, a detective placed a document in my mother's hand. "You can take him away after you sign this."

My mother was stunned, wondering, 'Isn't he in jail? How could he go back?'

She glanced instinctively at the paper in her hand, her breathing quickening for a moment. She leaned closer to the paper in disbelief. It bore the large words: Death Notice.

The police officer kindly reminded her, "Your son was executed a few days ago. His body is in the morgue; you can collect it later."

My mother remained silent. The woman, who had been so dismissive of me her entire life, stared blankly at the person before her.

All other sounds vanished miraculously. All she could hear was — her son had been executed.

Her son was dead.