"Don't say that," Mom said to the camera, dabbing at her tears. "She's grown up now. It's normal that she looks down on these cheap things from her poor mother..."

I shoved the tin box at the neighbor. "Want this for your grandson? Next time he's sick, maybe skip the hospital down the street and take him to some back-alley clinic instead?"

The neighbor shuffled backward, embarrassed. The box clattered to the ground.

Aunt Naomi moved to charge at me again, but Mom grabbed her arm, choking out: "Tomorrow I'll go buy you the most expensive imported ones—"

"Don't bother." I turned and walked away. Passing the reporter, I muttered under my breath, "Got enough footage?"

Aunt Naomi's voice cut through the air behind me, dripping venom: "Just wait until your uncle gets here! We'll see how smug you are then! No father to keep her in line—no wonder she's out of control!"

Mom crouched on the ground, picking up the scattered pills. Her knuckles were swollen and rough, her graying hair trembling in the wind.

The crowd kept swelling. Their whispers buzzed around me like flies.

Mom was still making excuses. "It's my fault I couldn't give her better..."

I stood off to the side, arms crossed.

June. Sweltering. Everyone else wore short sleeves. I was still in my school jacket.

Sweat trickled down my back. The fabric clung to my skin like a damp cocoon.

Something inside me snapped.

"Where are the new clothes you promised?!"

I screamed at Mom. "I'm the only one dressed in rags!"

Someone in the crowd couldn't hold back: "How dare you talk to your mother like that! Look at her—does she ever buy anything new for herself?!"

Mom grabbed my arm frantically, pulling out a crumpled wad of cash.

One-yuan bills. Fifty-cent notes. A few coins.

She pressed them into my hand. "I sold some recyclables this morning—take this for now. Once your uncle gets here, I'll take you shopping."

I knocked the money out of her hand. "Cut the act! If you've got time for this performance, why don't you go beg Aunt Naomi for Evan's hand-me-downs!"

Aunt Naomi's face went white with rage. "What the hell did you just say?! My son wears designer! You think you deserve to wear his clothes?!"

The crowd erupted.

Someone held up their phone, livestreaming: Saintly Mother Attacked by Ungrateful Daughter.

Comments exploded across the screen:

[Top scorer in the city? Zero points for character!]

[She doesn't appreciate anything!]

[If you think the money's dirty, don't spend it!]

I stared straight into the camera, enunciating every word: "Yeah. I think it's filthy. You all love it so much? Strip down and wear it yourselves."

Crack!

A slap sent my head snapping to the side.

Uncle Albert Dickerson shouldered through the crowd, eyes blazing. "I'm going to teach you a lesson today, you ungrateful little—"

Mom threw herself at him, clinging to his arm. "She's your niece! Your own blood!"

"How did my sister give birth to something like you?!"

Albert jabbed a finger in my face. "When you were born, your grandmother took one look—saw you weren't a boy—and wanted to drown you in a chamber pot right then and there! Middle of winter, your mother ran out barefoot, knelt in the snow, begged her on her hands and knees!"

The comments shifted instantly:

[Oh my god... what a mother.]

[She raised her daughter under that kind of pressure.]

[She really is the most selfless mother!]

I swallowed the familiar taste of iron.

Mom's voice came out small: "Once you have a child, you're responsible for them..."

She crouched down again to pick up the scattered coins, wiping each one before holding them out to me.

The neighbor's voice shook with emotion: "When you started elementary school, your father wanted to pull you out. Your mother divorced him without a second thought! Said she'd never let anything get in the way of your education!"

I yanked my hand free from Mom's grip. "That was her choice. It's compulsory education—she can't use that to guilt-trip me."

Aunt Naomi let out a theatrical sigh. "Every penny your mother had went to your tutoring classes. Her own clothes? Begged from charity, door to door. But every one of your school uniforms is brand new. She starved herself to make sure you'd never feel ashamed in front of your classmates."

I laughed. "A mother who can't even afford to buy clothes for her kid? I'd rather she never had me."

The livestream exploded.

[Ungrateful wretch!]

[Sucking her mother dry just to get top grades!]

[Look at how she's dressed—clearly no good. Hair that short, can't even tell if it's a boy or girl. Probably runs with a bad crowd.]

That last comment shot straight to the top.

Mom sobbed through her explanation: "Doris used to be such a good girl..."

The reporter cut in. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Young lady, what's your reasoning for saying that?"

Mom's tears dripped onto my hand. "You have such a bright future ahead of you. Don't say things out of anger that might ruin it..."

I yanked my hand back. Hard. The seam of my uniform tore wide open.

I ripped off the jacket entirely and hurled it to the ground.

[Wait... that body...]

[Is that a guy or a girl? Eighteen and not developed at all?]

[No Adam's apple though. And completely flat below the neck...]

Mom scrambled to explain. "She's malnourished. A late bloomer..."

Aunt Naomi's laugh was a serrated blade. "Some people are just blessed—a mother who dotes on them, vitamins since childhood—and they still don't appreciate it."

Uncle Albert's voice cracked like a whip. "Have you been stealing diet pills?! Is there anything you won't stoop to?!"

The stares closed in like needles piercing flesh.

All those eyes fixed on my flat chest. The whispers. The probing curiosity. The contempt.

My throat seized. My stomach churned.

"Don't touch me!"

I shoved. Hard.

Mom staggered backward, her foot caught on something, and she crumpled to the ground.

"Doris, have you lost your mind?! How has your mother ever wronged you?!"

Mom lay there, blood seeping from a gash at her temple. Her voice was so fragile it could shatter. "Sweetheart... Mama's dirty, I know. But the money I got picking through trash to buy you supplements... that money was clean."

"It's Mama's fault. I won't do it anymore, I promise. Just... please eat properly..."

A needle of pain lanced through my chest. I opened my mouth to say I'd never meant to stop eating—

Uncle Albert's fist found me first.

The first blow landed on my shoulder. The second and third rained down on my back, my arms, his fists falling like hail.

I didn't dodge. I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached.

Somewhere, people screamed. Someone tried to pull him off. He roared like a maddened lion: "Anyone who gets in my way today answers to me! Animals like this don't learn unless you beat it into them!"

I collapsed onto the ground. A cough tore through me, and blood-flecked foam splattered the concrete.

"That's... really brutal," someone murmured.

"Serves her right! Ungrateful brats deserve a beating!"

"Why's her face so white? Doesn't look like she's faking..."

"You think she's on something? I heard some students these days..."

The comments kept scrolling:

[Weren't you just so tough with your mom? Cat got your tongue now?]

[Pathetic. All bark, no bite. Only brave enough to hurt the person who loves her most.]

Mom dragged herself up from the ground and threw her body over mine like a shield. "It's my fault... I raised her wrong... Blame me..."

Her hand reached toward my face. I turned away.

I licked the blood from the corner of my mouth. And laughed.

"Why are you pretending to be the saint now? Now you care? Where was this concern when you were the one pushing me back then?"

Aunt Naomi shrieked. "What nonsense are you spouting?! Your mother wouldn't even eat meat just so YOU could have some!"

I braced my hands against the ground, trying to stand. My legs refused. I gave up and sat there, pointing straight at Uncle Albert.

"Your whole family—you watched your own sister sweep streets and dig through garbage while you strutted around in designer clothes and drove your fancy car. Did you help her once? YOU'RE the parasites! YOU'RE the ungrateful leeches! And now, seeing me like this?" A bitter smile twisted my lips. "You must be thrilled."

Uncle Albert's eyes went completely red. "I'll tear your mouth apart!"

He charged forward, snatched my backpack from where I'd thrown it on the ground, and swung it at me with full force.

The zipper burst open.

Everything inside flew out in a white cascade, like a sudden downpour of paper rain.

Pill boxes. Rolls of bandages.

All movement stopped.

Someone bent down and picked up a box. "Is this..."

"These are hormone medications!"

Someone else grabbed the document folder. I struggled to snatch it back, but my body was too weak to move.

Inside was a stack of lab reports.

The one on top showed estrogen levels so low they were barely detectable.

The comments section went blank for a few seconds, then exploded:

[Why would a girl be taking estrogen? Is she trans or something?]

[Must've caught something from sleeping around!]

[Mentally ill! Taking all this random crap!]

Mom froze.

Her lips trembled, but no words came out.

Aunt Naomi rushed over and slapped me twice across the face. "What have you been doing out there? Where did these drugs come from?"

My head snapped to the side. My ears rang.

I turned back.

And then I laughed—a wild, liberating laugh.

"That's right. I'm sick."

Every word came out razor-sharp. "The kind of sick where I'll die without medication. Happy now?"

Insults crashed over me from every direction.

"Freak!" "Pervert!" "Disgrace!"

Mom suddenly burst into sobs. She dropped to her knees and grabbed my arm. "It's my fault. Mommy didn't take care of you. Why didn't you tell me you were sick? However much it costs, Mommy will get you treated..."

Uncle Albert yanked her away. "Wake up! She brought this on herself! Born rotten! Cursed her own father to death! Cursed her own mother!"

I looked at my uncle. Then at my mother, still crying. Then at all those cameras pointed at me.

"Fine."

My voice came out so calm it surprised even me.

"Since you all think I was born rotten, I'll own it."

"Let's sever ties."

"From now on, I have no mother. No uncle. No aunt. Pretend that eighteen years ago, I really did drown in that chamber pot."

I picked up a lab report and scrawled a few lines on the back.

I threw the paper at Uncle Albert's feet.

"Sign it."

"Sign it, and I disappear forever."

"If we don't cut ties today, I'll take your surname!"

Uncle Albert's spit nearly hit my face. "From this day forward, no one in this family will ever acknowledge you!"

Mom's face was streaked with tears mixing with the blood from her forehead. "No! Mommy won't do it! Mommy won't cut ties!"

I pressed my bleeding thumb onto the severance document, leaving a vivid red print.

The blood seeped into the paper, blooming like a deformed flower.

I held up the paper. "As of today, I have no father. No mother."

Curses erupted around me.

"Sinner! Why keep a daughter like this around?"

"Look what she did to her own mother!"

"Born defiant—a wolf that can never be tamed!"

Just then, a blue verified badge floated across the livestream comments:

[I'm a physician in the Endocrinology Department at a top-tier teaching hospital. These lab results don't add up. If hormone levels were really this chaotic, a normal person would already have severe kidney damage or even organ failure. There's no way she'd still be standing here.]

Mom lunged forward and snatched the severance document from my hands, tearing it to shreds. "Mommy can't lose you..."

I tried to pull away, but she held on too tight.

"I don't have a mother like you."

Pat, the neighbor, came over to mediate. "Doris, sweetie, you used to hold your mom's hand walking to and from school every day. Remember when she was late picking you up once, and you cried your little eyes out? You two were so close—there must be some misunderstanding..."