Every year on the day the SAT results are released, I spend the entire day kneeling at my mother's grave.

Three years ago, I fell for a phone scam and transferred all of the tuition money she had saved through years of diligently saving up to the scammers. Unable to take the sudden blow, Mom suffered a fatal heart attack.

After she passed away, debt collectors began showing up at our door. Only then did I learn how much money she had borrowed just to keep us afloat.

I have no choice but to give up my admission offer from Jaloria College. Working five jobs a day, I finally repay every last debt today.

On the subway ride to the cemetery, I suddenly come across a streamer whose voice sounds strangely familiar.

She blabs, "How do you teach kids the value of earning money? In my experience, extreme circumstances work the best. I deliberately created a scenario for my daughter where both her parents are supposedly dead, and she inherited a million dollars of my debt.

"She's almost finished paying it off now. Tell me, can your kids do that?"

Someone in the comments section questions her methods, saying it is too insane.

She only grows more smug as she gloats, "So what? She's the one who was stupid enough to get scammed. I was just teaching her a lesson. As a reward for doing so well, I'll tell her the truth on her birthday five days from now. Any sensible child will understand their parents' good intentions."

As she gestures animatedly, a crescent-shaped birthmark on her wrist comes into view. It's identical to my mom's.

My hands tremble as I create a new account. I switch the profile picture to a man in a suit and change the background to luxury cars and mansions.

Then, I send her an expensive virtual gift.

While she excitedly thanks me, I leave a comment.

"You're absolutely right, ma'am. If only I had a smart woman like you around to help me raise my children."

The woman on the screen was still droning on about her plan.

"Honestly, I originally wanted to test my daughter right before college, see if she could spot a scammer.

"Who knew she would be dumb enough to transfer all the money? Thank God it was just a setup I ran. How's she going to survive without me around in the future? Sure, it was a bit harsh, but I was just playing along to teach her a lesson."

At her smug laughter, a sharp pain twisted through me.

But Mom, I didn't even have a smartphone back then. I spent every single day buried in my schoolwork.

How could I not believe an admissions officer who knew my exact social security number, exam registration details, and test scores?

Especially since what he said at the time was, "Ms. Mullen, our college has just set up a foundation for low-income students.

"If you pay the full four years of tuition and the housing cost upfront, a total of 40 thousand dollars, we will refund it proportionally every semester, provided your GPA stays in the top 1% of your class.

"If you can pull that off every year, college is basically free. Spots are limited, though. First come, first served."

The moment I heard I could ease the financial burden on my family, I transferred the money without a second thought.

I never stopped to wonder why, just a day after my mother, Alaina Sutton, gave me 40 thousand dollars, this person happened to ask for the same amount.

With trembling fingers, I typed out a comment. "Your daughter was only 18 when you faked your death. Did you ever think about how she was supposed to survive?"

Mom's tone grew even more animated. "Back in our day, we were supporting families at 16. If she can't survive, that's on her for being useless. And since I knew she'd have a hard time finding a job, I pulled a few strings with some people I know.

"An early morning shift at a breakfast diner, grocery store during the day, barbecue joint at night, and doing deliveries whenever she's free. That still leaves her four hours of sleep a night. That's plenty."

I let out a bitter laugh, clutching my aching stomach.

The barbecue place was always packed and never let us off until 5:00 am, which was exactly when the breakfast diner opened.

To make the transition, my fragmented sleep never amounted to more than three hours a day.

I hadn't had my period in over two years, and I was constantly battling stomach problems and low blood sugar.

Disappointment and rage boiled inside me. My fingers flew across the screen, desperate to confront her directly.

But as my eyes caught the words on her profile—"Single and looking for love"—a sudden thought flashed through my mind.

I took a few deep breaths. Once my rationality reclaimed the upper hand, I switched to my alternate account.

Dad had passed away early, and for as long as I could remember, Mom had been on a non-stop dating spree.

But her standards were impossibly high. The man had to be rich, sweet-tempered, and completely submissive.

Any decent man was immediately scared off, leaving only professional con artists willing to get anywhere near her.

I edited my alternate profile to fit her exact type, re-entered the live stream, and immediately dropped the most expensive virtual gift available.

Mom's face wasn't on camera, but the excitement in her voice was unmistakable. "Wow, thank you so much, SkyBreeze! That is so incredibly generous of you!"

Numbly, I began to type. "What you said really struck a chord with me. My wife cheated on me, so we divorced, and I was always too busy making money to raise my son.

"Now he's completely spoiled, and I don't even know if he can manage my multi-million-dollar estate. If only I had a smart woman like you by my side to help discipline him."

The chat started buzzing, and she adopted a coy tone, pretending to be modest. "Oh, stop it, sir. I'm a respectable woman. Tell you what. I'll DM you a free copy of the parenting guide I wrote myself later. It's just my way of helping you out."

It didn't take long for a direct message to pop up in my inbox.

"There were too many people in the stream just now, so I got shy. Actually, my husband passed away years ago, too. Would you like to exchange contact or Instagram details and get to know each other?"

The subway just happened to reach my station. After stepping onto the platform, I tossed the candles and bouquet straight into a trash can.

In my work chats, my boss was furiously chewing me out for taking time off during the peak season.

In the past, I would have swallowed my pride just to keep the paycheck. This time, I shot back a text. "I quit."

Then, I opened my chat with Mom and slowly typed my reply. "That sounds wonderful."

The moment Mom accepted the Instagram follow request, I tapped straight into her profile.

Her latest post featured a photo in a massive living room, where sprawling floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the gorgeous, neon glow of the city skyline.

In front of her sat a table overflowing with seafood.

The caption read, "Got the dividends from my investment project today. Time to treat myself."

To pay off the non-existent debt she had fabricated out of thin air, I had spent the last three years making meals out of stale white bread smeared with a bit of peanut butter.

Yet all the agony I had endured through clenched teeth was nothing more than a project to her.

Suppressing my revulsion, I went on the offensive.

"Is that your place in the photo? The night view outside is incredible."

Mom immediately fired back several more photos.

"Of course it is! I bought it using the money my daughter sent over. You can see the city tower and the river from here. I might not compare to a CEO like you, but I've got some assets of my own."

I studied the photos closely.

There weren't many buildings that offered views of both landmarks simultaneously. Combined with that classical interior design, it didn't take long for me to pinpoint an upscale neighborhood on the north side of the city.

No wonder we had never crossed paths all these years. She had hidden herself away in the wealthy district, leaving me to struggle alone in the urban slums.

Just as I was about to fish for her exact address, my phone rang. It was Connor Russell, the owner of the barbecue joint.

"Walking out like that is pretty heartless, don't you think? What am I supposed to do about my business tonight? I don't care! You have to come in today. Otherwise, forget about this month's pay. And that stray cat by the door? I'll snap its neck right now!"

The money was secondary, but an injured kitten had wandered into the shop a while back. Seeing how helpless and alone it was—just like me—I had been feeding it ever since.

I swallowed my anger and agreed. "Fine. But after tonight, I am definitely gone. If you refuse to pay me, I will call the police on the spot."

When I rushed into the restaurant, it was completely empty. Connor and the other staff members were nowhere to be seen.

While I was still wondering what was going on, a group of heavily intoxicated men barged in.

The moment they saw me, their sleazy eyes scanned my body from head to toe. "Hey, we saw you when we ate here the other night. Nice legs, sweetheart. Let me get a feel."

I slapped their hands away and turned toward the kitchen.

But the ringleader grabbed me by the hair and yanked me backward. "Bitch, who do you think you are, ignoring me? Guys, teach her some manners."

They began violently smashing the restaurant's tables and chairs against my body. I felt as though my spine had snapped, and the pain forced me to curl into a tight ball on the floor.

Someone started pawing at me while I couldn't move, and I fought with everything I had to crawl toward the exit.

Within a few steps, they caught up and dragged me violently into the alleyway next door.

An endless barrage of fists and boots rained down on my head and torso, soaking my clothes in blood.

Just as my consciousness began to slip away, I heard someone mutter quietly, "That's enough. No bodies."

Only then did the man stop and use the toe of his boot to shove my face aside. "Remember this. Don't be so arrogant next time."

I lay paralyzed on the dirt for a long time, unable to stand, before managing to slowly crawl back into the restaurant.

Connor was casually smoking a cigarette. The moment he saw me, he flicked the burning butt straight at my face. "Where the hell did you run off to? The shop got trashed like this, all because you went out looking for trouble! Now that the customers are gone, you're paying for the damages!"

I pulled out my phone to call the police, but a notification popped up on my alternate account. Mom had sent me a video.

"Let me show you something amusing. I thought my daughter had learned to endure hardship after three years, but the moment she believed the debt was cleared, she let her guard down and even dared to quit.

"She has no idea that the owner of the restaurant is a friend of mine. Looks like I'll have to extend her training period. Let's call it a birthday present from me."

The video went on for more than ten minutes, capturing every single moment of me being beaten and harassed.

Mom's text continued, "Don't think I'm being cruel now. I just hired some guys to scare her a bit. They didn't hit her that hard. Only when parents are willing to be ruthless can their children truly grow. Honestly, I think you should try this with your son, too."

I clutched my phone and laughed out loud. I tasted blood.

No wonder trouble had followed me like a shadow over the last three years of hustle. Entitled customers always chose my shifts to throw tantrums, and the dishes I handled were constantly getting sent back with complaints.

Every time I managed to save a little cash, I'd end up paying it out in damages. I had genuinely thought I was just cursed with bad luck.

It turned out that it was all just Mom's "tests".

When I remained silent, Connor walked over and nudged me with his foot. "What are you laughing at? Don't think playing dumb gets you out of paying.

"And don't bother looking for security footage either. The cameras broke ages ago. We can't find the guys, so this is on you. Otherwise, you can kiss the rest of your paycheck goodbye!"

Back when I was drowning in debt, my biggest fear was getting fired or having my wages withheld. But that leverage didn't work on me anymore.

Gasping for air, I forced myself up and stared dead into Connor's eyes. "What if I say I can find them?"

My expression rattled him, and his eyes darted away nervously. "Cut the crap. If you actually had that kind of pull, you wouldn't have been slaving away here for three years."

I shot him a sideways glance. "The walls have ears. Some people think they've covered their tracks perfectly, never realizing they tipped their hand long ago."

He froze.

I walked past him, scooped up the kitten, and headed straight for the police station.

Mom probably never dreamed that the chat logs she used to brag to others would become my primary evidence.

The video was clear enough, and the police assured me that they could track the guys down using facial recognition.

Before leaving, I made sure to leave specific instructions. "When you arrest them, please don't let them see the video, and don't mention where the evidence came from. A young lady filmed it, and she's terrified of retaliation."

With that handled, I opened my alternate account and replied to Mom, "Thank you for the inspiration. You really are a wise woman. If I had met you sooner, I wouldn't have made so many missteps with my own family."

When she went live that night, I dropped the most expensive virtual gift every ten minutes.

The chat immediately erupted with speculation about our relationship.

"Something's going on here. This is a straight-up public confession!"

"I can't believe you actually snagged a big shot at your age! Look at you, about to marry into money!"

Mom twisted her body coyly in front of the camera. "Oh, stop it, you guys. The gentleman just appreciates my insights."

The moment she logged off, she messaged me. "Don't do that next time. I know you're rich, but the platform takes a massive cut. I hate seeing you waste your money on them. It hurts my heart."

A faint smirk touched my lips. "I wanted to send you something more practical, but I was worried that asking for your address right away would make me look like I had bad intentions."

She replied almost instantly. "I've met all kinds of people. Judging by your manners and mindset, you're definitely one of the good ones. My address is Unit 301, Building 5, Suncrest Mansions.

"Don't spend so much next time. Just sending me a cup of coffee or something is enough to show that you care."

I finally had her address, but I wasn't about to just storm over there.

Since she had meticulously engineered a scam back then just to call me stupid, I wanted to see if she could escape a romance scam tailored specifically for her.

I found a local florist. "I need you to deliver a bouquet of roses to this address. Include a card with some cheesy, AI-generated romantic lines. Deliver them at 10:00 am every morning, for five days straight."

The florist teased, "Trying to win her over in just five days? Aren't we moving a bit fast?"

I smiled. "Five days is exactly how long it takes to form a habit. When I abruptly vanish on the sixth, she'll be the one moving fast."