My mom is a pathological liar who enjoys making herself seem like the victim. Unfortunately, I'm always the scapegoat.

When I was little, there was one time when she went out to play poker with her friends. As a result, she forgot to go home and prepare dinner on time.

After that, she slapped me in front of the entire family.

"This brat ran off to god knows where earlier! I went out looking for her, which is why dinner got delayed!"

Because of that lie, I had to kneel in the courtyard throughout the night.

When I was studying, I had to take an extremely important exam. My teacher repeatedly reminded the parents to prepare all materials required for their children.

But my mom didn't even prepare anything for me. After that, she even said in front of everyone, "I've already prepared the materials for her. She was the one who threw them away when she was on her way to school because she didn't want to take the exam at all!"

Since then, all of my classmates ostracized me throughout my entire school life.

After I came of age, my mom kept crying to me in the middle of the night.

"Your father has been abusing me for so many years. I had to endure everything for your sake, you know!"

I advised her to get a divorce, only for her to tell an exaggerated version of what I said to my father.

"Your daughter egged me on to divorce you! She said she doesn't need a useless father like you! I couldn't stand it anymore, so I'm telling you this!"

He flew into a fit of rage on the spot, which led to him accidentally pushing me down the stairs. I died on the spot from the fall.

When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day my mom cries to me about my dad for the first time.

"Viv, your dad is such a scoundrel! If it weren't for you, I would have broken up with him a long time ago!"

I could hear Mom's familiar nagging in my ears again.

I abruptly opened my eyes and saw Mom sitting next to me. She talked while choking back her tears.

Judging from the exact same words she was saying to me as she did in my past life, I knew then that I had been reborn.

"Life has been so hard on me…"

Mom continued sobbing as she grabbed my hands, letting her tears drip onto the back of my hand.

She looked just as sincere as she did in my past life. However, this time, I wasn't in a rush to comfort her. Instead, I silently wiped the tears on the back of my hand against the bedsheet.

"Mom," I said in a quiet voice. "I know… Dad does get a little out of hand at times."

Mom started crying and sobbing even more loudly than before. It was as if she wanted to vent and let all of her feelings out.

"He doesn't care about the family anymore! He's keeping all the money and won't let me even touch it! He doesn't care about you or me anymore and is just letting us suffer!

"I just asked him to buy me a new dress last week, and he wouldn't stop yelling at me and insulting me in public!"

I listened to her complaints quietly while scoffing in my heart.

Last week?

Just last week, Dad had bought her a gold chain necklace, and she'd even proudly shown it off to her bridge club members when she saw them. She'd flaunted, saying that she'd bought the necklace with her own private stash of cash.

"And yesterday, too!" Mom continued, sniffling harder. "I just asked him for some buffalo wings, and he threw his fork at me, yelling at me for wasting money on food!"

But Dad had been away on a business trip yesterday and only came home at the crack of dawn.

I reached out and lightly patted Mom on the back.

"Mom, you're going to get sick if you keep crying like this," I said.

Mom then grabbed my hand tightly like I was her lifeline and said, "You're the only one who understands, Viv! You're the only one who understands what I've been suffering through all this time!"

As if on cue, her tears began falling again. It was as if she were born to be an actress.

"I really can't bear to put up with life like this anymore! If it weren't for you, I would have already…"

She didn't finish her sentence and suddenly stopped halfway, looking at my expression from the corner of her eye.

In my last life, I had finished her sentence for her, saying, "If it weren't for me, you would have already divorced Dad, right? I'm sorry for all these years, Mom."

At first, I thought that we were just seeking solace from each other at that moment. However, Mom went right out and twisted my words when conveying them to Dad, painting me into the picture of an ingrate who had been forcing her to divorce Dad all the time.

I wasn't going to fall for her tricks again in this life.

"Mom," I said, interrupting her in my gentlest voice. "This is between you and Dad. You're both adults. You can both make decisions for yourselves now."

Mom did a double-take as she stared at me. Her sobs died in her throat.

A shocked look briefly flashed across her face, as if she never expected this response from me.

If I were still in my past life, I would have already gotten emotional and taken her side by now.

"Viv… What are you trying to say? What do you mean by this? Aren't I doing everything for your sake?"

"For my sake?" I echoed, looking at her with calm eyes.

"Mom, I've grown up now. Your happiness shouldn't be bound to me anymore."

Mom's eyes turned evasive. She let go of my hand and began wiping away the tears on her face in a fluster.

"You… You think that I'm a nuisance now, don't you? I'm too naggy for you, aren't I?"

"No," I said with a shake of my head. "I just think that this is a problem that should be solved between you and Dad as husband and wife. I'm just your daughter. I shouldn't interfere too much in this."

I knew it. Mom didn't want to divorce Dad.

She just wanted to use the excuse of her "doing it for my sake" to gain pity points to justify all of her complaints and demands for compensation from Dad.

I scoffed coldly in my heart as I said quietly, "I'm tired, Mom."

Mom froze for a second, giving me a once-over like she was trying to determine whether I was lying or not.

She opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but I beat her to it and lay down in bed with my back to her.

"Mom, you should go to sleep a little earlier tonight too."

There was silence for a few seconds.

Finally, I heard Mom getting to her feet and slowly walking toward the door.

"Alright, then go to sleep, Viv. Good night."

It wasn't until late at night, when there weren't any more sounds coming from the door, that I finally relaxed. It seemed as though Mom hadn't gotten suspicious of me yet.

However, just a split second later, the sound at the door suddenly gave me goosebumps all over.

I saw Mom making a suspicious phone call in the kitchen, unable to hide the excitement in her voice as she said, "Don't worry, she hasn't begun suspecting me yet…

"Wait for my next update, okay?"

Early the next morning, Mom woke me up like nothing had happened last night at all.

"Come on down, Viv. I made your favorite scrambled eggs for breakfast."

She smiled so lovingly and tenderly at me that I got a sudden chill down my back. Something felt fishy to me.

Dad was sitting at the head of the table with his nose buried in the morning newspaper. He didn't even bother glancing at me as I sat down.

"Help yourself to some more breakfast, Richard," Mom said, refilling his coffee mug while speaking in a sickly sweet voice.

This unnatural and awkward harmonious picture was a lot more alarming than her loud sobbing and crying last night.

What on earth was going on? Had Mom somehow found out about something?

After breakfast, Mom affectionately took my arm.

"Viv, come with Mom to the bank for a bit. I think there's something wrong with my card. You're familiar with these kinds of technology, so I'm going to borrow you for a bit."

I felt my heart sink into my stomach at her words.

None of this had happened in my past life.

Why did Mom suddenly ask me to accompany her to the bank?

Yet, as I didn't want her to get suspicious of me, I simply smiled and nodded at her.

"Okay."

…

When we were at the bank, Mom kept stalling at the counter.

"Wait, I think I forgot the password for this…"

The bank staff was obviously losing her patience with Mom when Mom suddenly grabbed my arm and said, "Viv, did you bring your ID with you? I need to use it for now. I'll make sure to transfer the money back to you later on."

However, the eager look in her eyes didn't make her seem like someone who had forgotten her account password at the bank. Rather, she looked like someone waiting for her victim to fall into her trap.

I suddenly recalled how she had taken away my ID and made a photocopy of it under the guise that she was helping me manage my finances.

Yet, a month later, an unknown loan had been taken out in my name.

"I didn't bring it, Mom," I said apologetically. "Do you want me to go back and ask Dad for his ID instead?"

Mom's expression darkened at once. She then forced a smile that looked very chilling.

"You're such a forgetful little brat. How could you lose your ID?"

She was quiet the rest of the way out of the bank. When we were almost home, however, she suddenly stopped short at the apartment building entrance and said, "Look, Viv! Isn't that old Mrs. Walters?"

I looked in the direction she was pointing and saw nobody. The entrance was completely empty.

"Where's Mrs. Walters?"

When I looked back, I suddenly felt my heart thumping loudly when I realized that Mom was very quickly withdrawing her hand from my coat pocket.

She had put something in it.

"Maybe I was mistaken," she said, walking away like nothing just happened.

I pretended not to notice anything and reached into my coat pocket. I immediately touched something hard and sharp that was rectangular-shaped.

It wasn't money.

While untying my shoelaces, I hurriedly brought the item out to glance at it and realized that it was a SIM card that I'd never seen before.

My heart suddenly froze.

What was she trying to do with my ID card and this SIM card, which had to be registered under someone's real name? Did my death in my past life have something to do with this?

When I thought about it, I remembered that the balcony railing had happened to break right at that moment, which was how I fell off of it in the first place.

Something was obviously very wrong with it.

That night, I flushed the SIM card into the toilet.

When I walked out of the toilet, Mom was standing at the door with a glass of warm milk in her hands and a gentle smile on her face.

"Here, have some warm milk before you go to sleep tonight, Viv. It'll help with calming down your nerves."

I stared at the white liquid in the glass.

In my past life, she would often show her "concern" toward me like this too.

"Thanks, Mom," I said, taking the glass from her. However, after going into my room, I poured the milk into my potted plant.

I was woken up that night by a slight stirring sound.

I saw that the light coming from the living room under my bedroom door was slightly blocked off by something in front of it.

Or someone who was standing at my door.

I held my breath and heard Mom's low voice. She was speaking into the phone with a smile in her voice. I didn't know who was on the other end of the call.

"It's all been arranged… I promise that nothing will go wrong this time.

"After all, she failed the test last time, didn't she?"

My blood ran cold at Mom's words.

Test? What test was she talking about?

Her footsteps eventually vanished into the night, but I couldn't sleep a wink the entire night.

Early the next morning, Mom was busy in the kitchen again.

"You're up, Viv. I made you your favorite oat porridge this time," she said, spooning up the hot porridge, blowing on it to cool it down, and bringing it to my lips.

"Hurry up and eat it."

I looked at her without moving.

Her eyes turned red at once.

"I know that you've been bottling up your emotions lately. But that doesn't mean you should starve yourself to death!"

I took the bowl from her and said, "I can feed myself."

I then took a spoonful of the oat porridge and pretended I was about to eat it. Then, I overturned the bowl and spilled the rest of it over my clothes.

"Ah!"

Mom exclaimed loudly and quickly jumped to her feet. There was a hint of disappointment in her eyes. It wasn't a look of concern. Rather, she seemed frustrated to have her plans upset again.

Yet, the look quickly turned into one of feigned concern and heartache for me.

"Did you burn yourself? You clumsy little thing!"

She rushed over to me as she hurriedly wiped off the porridge from me, but she also kept digging her nails into my flesh in the meantime.

Half an hour later, I began feeling an excruciating pain in my stomach. I rushed into the bathroom and began throwing up half of the contents in my stomach.

Mom stood at the door, not sounding the least bit panicked at all. In fact, she seemed to have expected my reaction as she said calmly, "See? This is what happens when you don't eat your breakfast properly. Your stomach's all upset now."

I felt my vision go black, and cold sweat seeped through my clothes.

Dad smelled the acidity in the air and asked, "What's going on?"

Mom immediately went into her acting mode and pointed at me with an upset, heartbroken look on her face.

"Your daughter's being difficult and extremely picky with her food again! She complained again about how terrible my cooking was, and see what happened to her? She's gone and given herself gastritis now!"

A split second later, however, she looked at me with an understanding expression and patted me tenderly on the head.

"It's fine. I'm not going to hold it against her anyway.

"Come on, Richard. Let's send our poor daughter to the hospital."

…

The doctor at the hospital took a look at me and said, "She has severe food poisoning. Her stomach needs to be pumped immediately."

The nurse came over with the consent form and said, "The patient needs to fast before the procedure. No food and drinks, please."

I nodded weakly.

Yet, Mom grabbed the nurse's wrist tightly and exclaimed, "No way! She refused to eat anything for days! She can't go hungry before the procedure!"

"Mrs. Larson, this is standard procedure—"

"What bullshit procedure? My daughter is about to die from malnutrition!"

Mom then stood up, suddenly produced a thermal container of the oat porridge from before, and said, "Listen to me, Vivian Larson! Take a bite of this. Just one bite will do!"

She then nudged the spoonful of porridge firmly against my lips.

I shut my lips tightly and refused to eat it, even turning my head away from her.

"Mom… Doctor said… No food…"

"What does the doctor know! I'm doing this for your own good!" she cried, almost on the verge of tears. "Are you trying to starve yourself to death?"

She then forcefully pulled me back to face her by my shoulder. I still kept my mouth tightly shut. She spilled the porridge all over my face, and I frowned hard in pain.

"The patient needs to fast before the procedure!" the nurse cried, trying to stop Mom.

Mom shoved the nurse away angrily and said, "She is my daughter! I am the one who has the final say!"

The scene was a mess.

The doctor rushed over when he heard what was going on and questioned sternly, "What are you trying to do, Mrs. Larson?"

Mom immediately let go of me. She took a step backward as tears immediately flooded her face. Then, she pointed a finger at my nose and began crying hysterically, "Doctor! Talk some sense into her!

"She was so hungry that she wouldn't stop crying and insisted on eating something first! I didn't have any other choice…"

I lay on the bed, feeling a cold chill run down my spine as I watched Mom's performance.

The doctor frowned. "The patient obviously refused to eat just now."

Mom's cries stopped at once. Her eyes doubled in size as she stared incredulously at the doctor, then at me, like she was the one being mistreated.

"Viv… How could you! How could you lie to me like that? You were the one who begged me to buy the porridge for you just now!"

She then looked at the other patients in the ward, as if she were trying to find some other people to support her.

"This daughter of mine… She's too stubborn for words… She won't stop torturing me even though she's so sick…"

The doctor couldn't be bothered to continue indulging her performance anymore and wheeled me straight into the operating theatre to pump my stomach.

Even until the moment the tube was inserted into my throat, I couldn't stop staring at Mom's figure outside the door.

She was standing in the hallway, and I could see the slightest hint of a smile on her lips then.