On the day the SAT scores are released, the reporters track me down, the top scorer of the entire nation, in order to get an interview with me. That's when they find me fishing for a corpse by the river.

When the reporters ask me who I'm thankful to the most, my mom, who's allegedly been dead for ten years, makes an appearance.

She gets out of the Maybach, looking very high and mighty.

"Your dad didn't remarry for ten years, and you've become the top scorer of the nation. As expected, both of you have passed my test."

I can only grip my pole while staring at her in confusion.

It turns out that ten years ago, Mom's adopted younger brother, Donald Ferguson, suggested to her, "Why don't you fake your death and test your husband's mettle? You should pretend to go bankrupt and jump off a building. If he can stay single for your sake for the next ten years, that should prove that he didn't marry you just for your money."

Mom had laughed back then. "When we were still dating, I pretended to be poor for three years. Walter could take five jobs just to put food on the table for me. It's so evident that he loves me to the moon and back. Ten years isn't a problem; heck, he'll definitely remain unmarried for 20 years, or even for the rest of his life!"

The fact that I, the top scorer of the nation, am actually the wealthiest woman, Eloise Ferguson's son, gives a huge boost to the shares of her company. The entire nation looks forward to seeing Mom and me hugging each other while bawling at the top of our lungs.

Mom looks around her surroundings.

"Where's Walter? I'm here to take both of you home with me."

"He's dead."

The pole in my hands slowly cracks into splinters as I look up at Mom and spit out the answer word by word.

"Three years ago, Dad kept working his ass off day and night just to buy the best burial plot for you. That was when he died in this very river."

My mother, Eloise Ferguson, flinched. For a split second, something flickered in her eyes.

The crowd of reporters around us collectively sucked in a sharp breath. Camera shutters erupted in a frenzy.

Mom cared more about the Ferguson family's image than anything. She quickly regained her composure and said, "Mike, people are watching. Don't make jokes like that."

"Even if the bankruptcy was staged, I still made sure he had an inheritance. How could he not afford a grave?"

I stared at her in bewilderment.

After Mom's supposed death, my uncle Donald Ferguson kicked Dad and me out of the house. He said Mom had left us drowning in debt and made us sell everything we had.

How could there possibly be an inheritance?

Before I could speak, Uncle Donald grabbed my arm.

"Mike, I never thought you and your father would be so irresponsible with money. You burned through a fortune."

He shook his head in disappointment.

"But using something like this to make your mother feel guilty is going too far."

Then he turned to Mom with a helpless expression.

"See, El? Didn't I tell you? Walter has always been stubborn. He's deliberately making things difficult for you. You didn't believe me before we came. You kept insisting he was honest and simple."

"It's hard for people to adjust once they've grown accustomed to luxury. After enjoying the Ferguson family's wealth and status, how could he possibly endure hardship?"

Mom nodded in agreement.

"You've always had a sharp eye for people. Men know men best. I was right to listen to you and stop him from getting that promotion."

"After all, he only had what he had because he married me and took the Ferguson surname. A bit of suffering was the only way to remind him where he belonged."

My eyes widened.

My father, Walter Ferguson, had earned that promotion through sheer hard work. He was always the first person to arrive at work and the last to leave. Whenever there were holiday shifts or overtime, he was the one who volunteered.

I still remembered how happy he had been that day.

He had hugged me tightly and told me he'd gotten a promotion and a raise. He said we would never have to live in that basement apartment that leaked every time it rained.

But the very next day, he was fired.

The company falsely accused him of damaging equipment and demanded an enormous amount in compensation.

That was five years of his hard-earned savings.

The image of Dad wasting away from lung cancer flashed through my mind, and my eyes instantly turned red.

"Why?" I demanded. "Why would you do this to us?"

"If you hadn't done that, Dad wouldn't have had to work five jobs a day. He wouldn't have worked himself to death right here!"

My throat tightened. It felt as if my chest had been ripped apart, and with every breath, I tasted blood.

"We're all your family, aren't we? Why is Uncle Donald allowed to cover himself and his son in designer brands and take luxury trips abroad, while Dad and I weren't even allowed to live a normal life?"

Mom frowned.

"Your Uncle Donald grew up in the Ferguson family and was pampered from childhood. How can you compare yourselves to him?"

"I never realized your father was so petty and resentful."

The reporters around us kept taking pictures. The flashing lights made Mom squint.

"Enough. Tell your father to come out and stop all this nonsense. I'll apologize to him, okay? This has gone on long enough," she said.

"Then go, if you really mean it!" I roared.

My entire body shook uncontrollably as I hurled the worn police case closure report onto her expensive designer dress.

"Go down there and apologize to Dad!"

When the report landed on the floor, Mom's fingers jerked.

Before she could bend down to pick it up, Uncle Donald snatched it and tore it into pieces.

"El, where did Walter get someone to make this?" he scoffed.

"The workmanship is terrible. It's not even as convincing as the death certificate I personally made for you back then."

"Bullshit!" I roared.

My eyes reddened as I stared at the shredded paper scattered across the ground.

Uncle Donald moved to Mom's side and sighed.

"Because Walter faked his death, the media is turning on Ferguson Group. The stock price is already dropping, El. You need to fix this."

He turned to me with a stern look.

"You almost had us fooled. Even a prank should have limits. Mike, tell your father to come out right now and prove in front of everyone that he's still alive."

"Walter used to be the most reasonable person when it came to the bigger picture. How did he become like this?"

Mom looked at me with nothing but disappointment in her eyes.

I remembered how she used to stand up for him fiercely in public whenever relatives made cruel remarks about him.

At charity galas, the mere hint of an insult, labeling him a country bumpkin, was enough to make her spend exorbitant amounts of money just to stand by him and put an end to the ridicule.

No matter how busy she was, she always came home on time because she never wanted him to wait an extra minute.

I stared at her, unable to look away.

When did Mom become this stranger?

A malicious gleam flashed through Uncle Donald's eyes.

"The only reason everyone's paying so much attention to this is that Mike is the nation's top scorer. But what if he isn't?"

My breath caught.

"I had someone look into it. Mike hasn't set foot in a high school for three years. How could he possibly be the nation's top scorer?"

Mom's gaze darkened as she looked at me.

"So, you cheated, Mike. It seems the only way for me to salvage some reputation for Ferguson Group is to turn you in myself."

Panic flooded through me.

Being accepted into a good university had been Dad's final wish while he was still alive.

"You can't do that!" I shouted.

"I'm your mother. I can do whatever I want," she said, fixing me with a cold stare.

"If you don't want me to do it, then tell me where your father is."

My throat felt parched and scorched.

"I've already told you. Dad is in this river. That's why I've been searching for it every single day."

Mom seemed unconvinced.

"You never learn until you hit rock bottom, do you?"

The last trace of warmth vanished from her eyes as she dialed the Department of Education's reporting hotline.

"Hello. I'm Eloise Ferguson, President of Ferguson Group and the mother of candidate Mike Ferguson. I am formally reporting my son for cheating on the SAT."

"For the sake of fairness and integrity, I request that all of his examination results be invalidated."

My vision went black.

In that instant, my entire world collapsed.

Uncle Donald chuckled softly.

"Walter's still missing. I guess he doesn't give a damn about Mike's results. Perhaps he thinks that since the Ferguson family has money, whether Mike goes to university or not doesn't matter."

Mom stared at me and said coldly, "You're never going to university. You and your father will rely on me for everything for the rest of your lives."

"From this moment on, every drop in Ferguson Group's stock price goes on your tab. Let's see how much longer your father can hide."

The reporters, however, didn't take the bait as Mom had planned.

They smelled a bigger story.

"Mrs. Ferguson, are you reporting your own son for cheating to cover up the scandal surrounding your husband's death and the abuse of your son?"

"Netizens are already organizing a boycott against the Ferguson Group. Do you intend to resign and assume responsibility for this?"

Mom clenched her teeth. Even her breathing grew noticeably heavier.

I knew that look.

She was truly furious.

My heart sank.

The next second, Mom grabbed my arm. Her grip was so fierce it felt as though she was trying to shatter my bones.

"Move."

She dragged me away and threw me into the back seat of her Maybach.

We arrived at Grandma's gravesite.

Following Dad's final wishes, I came here every month to clean and maintain it.

Mom stood before the grave and said coldly, "Either your father comes out on his own, or I force him to come out. You can choose for him."

The instant I grasped what Mom was about to do, a sudden rush of blood surged to my head.

I was trembling all over.

I threw myself at her and pushed her hard in the chest.

"During those years when you pretended to be poor, Grandma emptied her retirement savings to support your business! She pitied you for being an orphan. She scrimped and saved so she could give you the best of everything. She treated you like her own child. How could you...

Mom simply lowered her eyes and regarded me coldly.

"Your father even told you that. Donald was right. He was simply trying to leverage past favors to control us."

Her expression turned even colder.

"Since you won't choose, I'll choose for you."

The henchmen behind her stepped forward.

With a single swing of a hammer, Grandma's tombstone shattered.

"No!"

I threw myself over the grave, clawing at the coffin's seams with my bare fingers.

One year, Dad had worked himself until he collapsed. Even while unconscious in bed, he had kept calling out for his mother.

If he knew that because of him, Grandma couldn't rest in peace even after death, how heartbroken would he be?

"Move."

Mom's bodyguard pried my fingers loose. It felt as though the skin and flesh were being ripped from my fingertips.

Dad still didn't appear.

Mom emptied every last bit of Grandma's remains onto the ground.

"Walter is truly heartless," Uncle Donald said from the side. "Though you scattered his mother's remains, he still won't appear. No wonder he played dumb all those years you were pretending to be poor. He was just scheming to stay by your side."

Uncle Donald suddenly covered his mouth and chuckled.

"Oh, dear. I really shouldn't have said that."

Mom froze, then turned sharply toward him.

"What do you mean by that? Walter knew all along that I was faking being poor?"

"You're lying!" I blurted out almost instinctively. "Dad never knew anything about it. He genuinely loved Mom!"

Mom's expression darkened completely.

A flash of triumph flickered through Uncle Donald's eyes as he stepped closer to her.

"El, do you remember when Mom adopted me? She used to joke that I'd grow up to be your groom."

His expression softened.

"Divorce Walter. I've been waiting for you all these years."

Mom fell silent for a moment, then shook her head.

"No. I won't divorce Walter."

I never thought Mom would say no, and neither did Uncle Donald.

He pursed his lips.

"Why?" he asked. "Weren't you the one who said Walter was inferior to me, that he wasn't fit to be the head of the Ferguson family?"

Mom stared into the distance, as if reliving old memories.

"During those years when I was pretending to be poor, my mother killed herself because my father had cheated on her."

"He was the one who stayed with me through it all. He pulled me out of hell."

"I don't know if he meant it. But without him, I wouldn't have had the will to live."

A gust of wind swept across the cemetery, carrying Grandma's remains through the air.

"You're the one who told me Walter abused you and that he might only want the Ferguson family's wealth," Uncle Donald said.

"Well, the ten-year trial is over. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you and Mike."

Uncle Donald's composure was cracking. His eyes rested on my face for a moment.

He stepped closer and lowered his voice, so only I could hear.

"You know something?"

A cruel smile curled across his lips.

"I'm the one who killed your father."