I never imagined that something like this would happen to me.

In the living room, my parents sat solemnly in the main seats, my younger brother was sitting on the sofa beside them, his head lowered, silent.

I stood alone in front of them, isolated and helpless.

"Why..." I couldn't believe these words were coming from my parents, who had loved me for 23 years.

"No why," my mother said impatiently. "Your brother is getting married, and we're short on money for the house." She sighed, clearly irritated. "It’s just $20,000. Why are you acting like we’re asking for your life?"

"But Mom, I only have $20,000. I was saving this for my wedding with Lucas," I explained, my voice shaking.

"You only have $20,000 because you're not making enough. It’s generous enough that we’re not asking for $50,000. After raising you all these years, you can’t even give us this $20,000?" she snapped.

"But Mom, you know, Lucas and I are getting married next month. And my brother isn’t just short $20,000 for the down payment. He’s short $20,000 for the entire house!" My heart was breaking as I spoke.

"Why can’t he just get a loan?"

My mother’s voice was sharp, but I felt like my whole world was crumbling.

I had once thought my parents really loved me. Even when they left me in the countryside with my grandmother until I was five and only brought me to the city once my brother was old enough for kindergarten, I had always believed they were just too busy to care for me.

When my friends talked about their families’ favoritism towards boys, I would always insist that my family wasn’t like that. My brother was just an unexpected child, not something deliberately planned by my parents.

I had been living in this lie for over twenty years.

I looked at my parents in disbelief.

My brother was getting married in a year, and my parents were already using all their savings to buy him a house in the best area of the city. They didn’t even want him to take out a loan.

But I was getting married next month, and they hadn’t contributed a penny—now they wanted to take all my savings.

Why was this happening?

"Then you can just take out a loan," my father said from the side.

"What kind of nonsense is that? The woman shouldn’t pay for the house. Look at your brother. His wife isn’t contributing anything. You should talk to Lucas and tell him that we’re not contributing," he added dismissively.

It felt like my heart had been crushed by a weight I couldn’t describe. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe.

"I’ll think about it," I muttered, needing some time to process the blows.

"No need to think. I’ve already taken the money out. I was just testing you. I didn’t expect you to be such an ungrateful child," my mother said coldly.

"What?"I was stunned.

"What do you mean, ‘what’? I found your card at home, so I just took it out. The password has always been the same, hasn’t it?" my mother said dismissively.

I felt like the world was crashing down around me. I rushed into the room, grabbed my bank card, and ran out of the house, barely putting on a jacket. I headed straight to the bank.

When I saw that the balance was zero, I leaned against the ATM, slowly sliding to the floor.

$20,000. To withdraw it all without alerting the bank would take at least four months.

They had been planning this for a long time.

Growing up, they always told me that we were a family, and in a family, there should be no secrets. That’s why everyone’s passwords were public.

I never imagined they had been setting this up all along.

I had always naively believed that all loving families were like that. I had never coveted their privacy or their money, so I never tried to use their passwords.

But I never expected that one day, they would take everything I had.

In a daze, I picked up my phone and shakily opened my Messenger app, typing in my father's account number.

Times had changed quickly, and they no longer used that app, so I assumed the password hadn’t been changed.

A moment later, I saw the "incorrect password" error message and forced out a bitter smile.

I tried my mother’s and brother’s accounts as well.

None of them worked.

It turned out that all these years, the only one whose password was public was me.

Knock knock knock.

There was a knock at the door. I looked up and saw a tall, slender man standing outside.

"Miss, are you okay? Do you need help?" The man appeared to be in his thirties, wearing casual athletic clothes, his posture tall and straight.

I propped myself up and stood, reminding myself that this was a public place, and I shouldn’t delay the normal flow of things.

I shook my head and said, "I’m fine, sorry to take up your time." I turned to leave.

A few seconds later, I heard the man calling from behind, "Miss, you dropped your card!"

I waved my hand, not turning around.

What use could he have for the card? To remind me that I’m a complete fool? To remind me that I’ve been living in lies all this time?

I walked aimlessly down the street, surrounded by bustling crowds and the endless flow of cars, but I felt completely detached from it all.

Just then, my phone vibrated.

Since I started working, my phone had never been set to ringtone mode.

The caller ID displayed "Manager Jason."

It might be the result of the year-end evaluations.

I had worked diligently all year, taking no more than 30 days off, with countless overtime hours. Manager Jason had promised to help me apply for the year-end evaluation and possibly earn me a bonus.

Considering my empty wallet now, any bonus would at least provide some comfort.

I took a deep breath to steady myself and answered the call, "Hello, Manager Jason."

"Amelia, there’s something I need to tell you," Manager Jason’s voice was calm, but I had a bad feeling.

"What is it, Manager Jason?" I feigned calmness.

"About the evaluation… you didn’t make it," Manager Jason sighed. "The boss's nephew got selected."

"Amelia, we can see your effort, but unfortunately, it didn’t work out this time. Keep at it, and next year’s evaluation will definitely be yours."

"Okay, Manager Jason. I’ll work hard," I said, calmly hanging up the phone.

What else could I say? Argue with Manager Jason? What difference would it make?

It was just... a little sad.

Family was a disappointment, and now work was a disappointment too.

Thinking about how I’d have to go back to work tomorrow, I felt an overwhelming sense of frustration. I decided to indulge myself for a moment and pulled out my phone to send Manager Jason a message:

"Manager Jason, I’ve finished all the work I had on hand. I’m thinking of taking my annual leave. Do you think that would be alright?"

Within three minutes, Manager Jason replied: "Amelia, take a good rest. When you come back, we’ll get back to work. I have high hopes for you."

I gave a bitter smile and quickly submitted a leave request through the company system. Despite many overtime hours going unapproved, I found that I had 15 days of leave plus compensatory time off.

I clicked submit without hesitation.

Three minutes later, the notification popped up: Manager Jason had approved the request.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or sad.

Happy that I now had so many days off. Sad because it became clear that I wasn’t as indispensable as I thought.

The reason I hadn’t taken leave earlier was because I had always believed that the company wouldn’t run without me. But now, I realized it didn’t really matter.

I suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for the version of myself who had worked tirelessly.

At that moment, I didn’t know yet that this wasn’t the worst of it.

I couldn’t go home, and I didn’t need to work overtime. For a moment, I didn’t know where to go. I checked the time—it was already six.

Lucas should be off work by now, so I decided to pick him up.

It used to be me working overtime while he waited for me downstairs at the office. This time, I had some free time, so I thought I’d surprise him and go pick him up.

On the way, I stopped at a familiar flower shop and bought a bouquet.

Romance knows no gender, right?

While swiping my card, I pulled up the hidden messenger account linked to a bank card my family didn’t know about.

Thanks to my best friend,Sarah, who dragged me five years ago to open a new bank account and repeatedly told me not to tell anyone about this card. She also made me set this card as the default for my bonuses and some freelance income.

Over the years, this card had accumulated quite a sum.

I was grateful to myself for not telling anyone about it.