On New Year's Eve, my own brother slapped me three times. He stood there, full of himself, and spat at me in disgust. "This is my house. Who do you think you are, coming in here and telling me what to do? Get out. You're nothing but bad luck. If you dare stay, I'll hit you again."

He seemed to have forgotten something. The house he was living in was the one I had bought for Mom. The jewelry his wife wore was all paid for by me. The money in his children's hands was the generous allowance I had just given them.

My face still burning, I looked around at the others.

My sister-in-law curled her lips into a mocking smile and let out an icy snort. The two children stared at me with open hostility. Mom, who had called me there tonight for my birthday, stood silently in the corner.

Just like always, her eyes were red, yet she said nothing.

At that moment, something in me snapped.

It was New Year's Eve, and it was also my birthday. My mom called me first thing in the morning.

"Sheila, it's your special day! Why don't you pick up a cake and come over? We'll have a big dinner and celebrate," she said cheerfully.

Lilian, my sister-in-law, shouted from the background, "Make sure it's a fancy one with lots of cream. Andrew and Nelson love that!"

Mom quickly agreed, "That's right, Sheila. Did you hear Lilian? Get a nice one and don't be late. We will be waiting."

With that, she hung up.

I looked at the phone. The call lasted less than a minute. I felt a bit stunned but eventually grabbed my coat and headed out.

When I got there with the cake, my brother Patrick Chapman opened the door. He wrinkled his nose at the cake. "Is that all you brought? You should've brought something nicer for New Year's Eve dinner," he said.

I did not want to argue. It was hard enough to get that cake since I was too unprepared.

Lilian added, "Yeah, think of others for once, especially Mom, Andrew, and Nelson. You're being cheap!"

I noticed the bracelet on her wrist, the one I had recently bought for Mom's birthday. It should have upset me, but I just felt oddly calm. It was not the first time something like this had happened.

Mom peeked out from the kitchen, trying to keep the peace. "Let it go. Sheila can get a better one next time."

Lilian glanced back with a huff, "Watch that chicken noodle soup. Don't ruin it like you did before. Can't you be a little more careful?"

Mom exclaimed anxiously and retreated.

I saw everything and felt a bitter laugh bubble up inside me. At the dinner table, we had not even stuck candles into the cake that was meant to celebrate my birthday before Patrick's two kids gobbled it all up.

Mom said, "Andrew and Nelson are starting school next year, Sheila. Don't you think you should do something nice for your nephews?"

"Didn't I just give them some money?"

Lilian's voice got all high-pitched. "That was just a little NewYear gift. You're supposed to give that anyway. Don't try to confuse things!"

I finally raised my head. "So now, I'm supposed to pay for the kids' schooling too?"

The room went quiet, and everyone stopped what they were doing.

I took a breath and added, "I don't have that kind of money. If money's tight for you, maybe Patrick should find a job next year."

Then, with a loud bang, Patrick kicked a chair against the wall and slapped me hard across the face.

The slap dazed me.

Lilian kept serving veggies to Andrew as if nothing had happened, coaxing him to eat. Mom looked like she wanted to get up, but she hesitated.

Patrick's voice was like nails on a chalkboard. "What right do you have to boss me around?"

Then, he slapped me again. After that, he paused, his eyes burning with anger as he stared at me. It seemed like he was not done yet. He lifted his hand and gave me another hard slap.

"All these years, I've been the one taking care of Mom. I simply ask you for money, and you think you're so important? Ugh, you bring nothing but trouble! Consider these three slaps your lesson!"

Lilian mocked me with her icy laughter. "Exactly, Sheila. We're just looking out for you. You're not married, and when you're old, you'll need Andrew and Nelson, your nephews, to take care of you. If you don't help out the family now, how can you expect them to take care of you later?"

Their words bounced back and forth like a volley, each one dripping with sarcasm. The pain was sharp and spread across my face, which was reflected on the shiny tabletop.

My face was red and swollen, with even a hint of blood. I looked so ugly right now. I looked up at my mom.

She dodged my gaze. And after a moment, she looked at me with a mix of annoyance and blame.

"Sheila, this is your brother's house. Why can't you be more understanding and not make your brother angry today? Are you happy now that you've caused such a mess?"

I forced a smile, stood up, and headed for the door.

Patrick's angry voice followed me. "She's nothing but bad luck. Let her go far away! If she ever comes back to my house, I'll slap her again!"

I shut the door behind me, and the loud insults were cut off instantly. His house? I was the one who bought this house for Mom's retirement. They took it over without a word to me.

However, what they did not know was that the name on the title deed had always been mine.

Outside, the wind was so biting it felt like it could cut right through my skin. I pulled my coat tighter and walked step by step toward my home.

The house was not far from where I lived.

Not long after my brother Patrick got married, Mom came to me with tears in her eyes. She told me Patrick's wife did not like her and did not want to live with her.

I knew all about Patrick. He did not have a job and was always lounging around. He and his wife rented a small place in a part of town with lots of old buildings and cheap rent. They lived off Mom's retirement money.

Hearing Mom cry made me really sad, so I offered her a deal.

"How about you move in with me? I'll give you some money every month to help out, and maybe you can cook for me now and then."

I had even picked out a room for her when I bought my house.

However, Patrick had made a fuss back then. He said I just wanted Mom's money and would not let her move in with me. I did not think much of it at the time, but with everything going on then, I thought she would take me up on my offer. However, she just could not decide and finally said no.

"It wouldn't be right for me to live with you, a young person. Maybe you could buy me my own place? Then I wouldn't have to worry when I get older, and I'd feel more settled."

I was shocked and did not know what to say, but then Mom started crying again. "Sheila, ever since you were little, you've always been the one who gets it. Please, help me out just this once."

I thought about my savings and, even though it was a lot to ask, I said yes. Before long, I bought a small house with two bedrooms and a living room.

Mom was over the moon when she moved in. Her face was all lit up, and she kept saying what a good daughter I was.

However, not too long after that, Patrick's wife got pregnant. On that day, Patrick and his whole family moved into the house I had paid for in full.

Mom was thrilled, greeting them at the door with open arms. Nobody mentioned how Patrick's wife had once looked down on her.

They ended up living there for five whole years.

I let out a puff of cold air, and only after I stepped inside did the icy chill start to fade from my bones.

I sat on the balcony in the dark, not bothering with the lights.

I pulled out my phone and, in the shadows, terminated the special bank card I had given Mom.

She had come to me crying one day, saying Patrick had taken her pension and she had no money left, so I set up the card for her.

From then on, all her spending came from that card. I would peek at the charges sometimes. The cheap stuff was always just basic things we needed every day.

However, the pricey things? I could tell they were all for Patrick and his family.

I closed my eyes and pulled out the title deed that had been untouched for five years from my drawer, then found the real estate agent's number from when I first bought the place.

[I need this house to sell fast, and it's okay if the price is a little low.]

Maybe because it was New Year's Eve, his reply was slow, but he did reply.

[Hey, isn't this the house I sold you back then? You're selling it already? Selling a house right before New Year's? You're full of surprises.]

Even though he was teasing me, he was serious about his job.

[Don't worry, I've got this. It's a great property, and since you're okay with a lower price, I bet it'll be snapped up the moment it hits the market.]

I just sent back a message acknowledging it and gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows into the night. Bright fireworks shot up into the night sky. Under the dark sky, a burst of colorful fireworks suddenly lit up, making even the dark rooms in the house bright.

I looked at the clock and saw that it was past midnight. It was a new year. Watching the fireworks, I felt happier than I ever had before. The fireworks kept going, lighting up the sky as if they were showing us the way for the year ahead.

I smiled, went back to my room, and snuggled into my cozy bed.

In my dreams, I saw Mom protecting little me and Patrick from my dad, who was angry and waving his fists. I saw her wake up late at night to fix the blanket I had kicked off, making sure I was warm. However, I then saw Patrick taking my treats and allowance, hiding behind Mom and smirking at me.

I saw Mom cry and make a show in front of me, just to take away from me to give to Patrick. She always looked at me with blame and told me what to do.

"Sheila, that's your brother, you can't fight with him."

"Sheila, that's your brother, you're supposed to do this."

...

I woke up to a bright morning, the sun shining on the snow until it sparkled. My phone on the nightstand was ringing like crazy.

I looked at it and answered. Mom's worried voice came through.

"Sheila, the card you gave me isn't working. Is it out of money? Put some in quickly. I need to buy things for your brother."

I answered without any fuss, "It's not that I'm out of money. I just don't want to give it to you anymore."

I had held onto her small acts of kindness for so many years. However, this year, those three slaps finally woke me up.