My mom was a brilliant programmer. She created an app called "Shake for Allowance."

After my brother and I downloaded it, she told us, "From now on, this is how you'll get your living expenses. On the first of every month, just shake your phone. Whatever number you get is the amount you'll receive.

"The range is from zero to ten thousand dollars."

At first, I was excited. Every month, I shook my phone with anticipation.

However, every time, the result was the same: 0 dollars.

My brother, meanwhile, always landed the highest amount.

"Wow, sis, your luck really sucks," he said.

Even when he showed me the transfer record for ten thousand dollars, there was a smug smile on his face.

When I confronted Mom, she brushed it off, saying my luck was bad and that no one else was to blame.

With no other choice, I worked three part-time jobs just to support myself while studying.

On the night before my final exams, I collapsed from exhaustion and died.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day my mom created the "Shake for Allowance" app.

I gazed at the app icon on my screen, a wave of nausea washing over me.

In what felt like a previous life, the gnawing hunger that came just before death was my constant companion.

I remembered the days I would sneak classmates' leftovers in the cafeteria, the nights I would dig through trash for stale bread, and the shivering cold of winter classes, my only warmth a ragged coat scavenged from a dumpster.

Meanwhile, my brother always sported the freshest kicks, bragging as he showed off his latest ten-grand windfall from the app. "Man, sis, you've got the worst luck."

I used to believe it was just that: bad luck.

However, as I lay dying, my college smarts helped me uncover the truth: the app's code was rigged from the start.

My account ID was doomed to always come up empty.

I inhaled deeply, fighting back a lump in my throat, and slid the phone back to my mom:

"Mom, this whole 'Shake for Allowance' thing doesn't sit right with me."

Her smile stiffened, and she peered at me with knitted brows. "What's wrong with it? If you're lucky, you could rake in way more than you used to."

"That's just it. It's all about luck, and that's not right." I held her gaze, no longer dodging the truth: "Are you sure there's no bias in the app's random number generator? Like, maybe for different device IDs, or certain accounts?"

My mom's denial was quick and firm. "What are you on about? Why would I do something like that?"

The pangs of hunger that once doubled me over seemed to return.

I faced her growing irritation head-on, "Allowance should be a sure thing, not a roll of the dice. I think a set amount for my brother and me would be better."

Her voice was tinged with irritation, "What do you know? I'm using this app for a contest, and you two are just part of the test. You should be flattered. Or are you just scared you're unluckier than your brother?"

Her words hit me where it hurt the most, drawing a line between my little brother and me.

She was trying to put me down to get her way.

"True, you've always been the unlucky one. You can't even drink water without choking, can't eat without gagging, and you always end up with a fish bone stuck in your throat."

Her words got sharper and sharper, turning into a full-blown character attack.

Just then, my brother, who was lounging on the couch playing games, looked up and said with a lazy drawl, "Come on, sis, Mom's just trying to help. Why not give it a shot? It might be a blast. Maybe you're on a winning streak today?"

He had that smirk on his face, the kind that loves a good drama, and his eyes were teasing.

I forced a stiff smile and said, "You're both right, Mom, bro."

I grabbed my phone and hovered over the app icon, "Let's see how lucky I am."

With that, I gave my phone a hard shake.

The wheel on the screen whirred and, just like in my so-called previous life, landed with pinpoint accuracy on the blinding "0".

My brother, predictably, hit the jackpot with "10,000 dollars".

Mom's lips twisted into a smug, knowing smirk, and my brother could not help but let out a loud, mocking laugh.

"Looks like your luck hasn't gotten any better with age."

I took a deep breath and tuned them out.

In my previous life, I majored in computer science. If they were so set on me using this app, well, this time I was going to show them what I could do.

"Don't sweat it, just a bit of bad luck," Mom said casually, grabbing her tablet. She logged onto a forum for coders with a proud smile plastered on her face.

"Check this out, I posted about our shake-to-win feature and some tech insights, and it's been getting rave reviews!"

There it was, her post, lighting up the screen.

The comments section was buzzing with fans going wild over the latest tech hit.

[Genius idea!]

[Tech that takes care of the fam is the best!"]

[Can't wait to see more!] They raved.

"Next month's citywide coding marathon? I'm totally bringing 'Shake for Allowance' to the showdown. With this killer concept and slick code, snagging a prize will be a breeze," I overheard Mom boasting.

My little bro was grinning ear to ear, flipping through the crisp ten thousand dollar notes he just scored, and piped up, "You nailed it, Mom! Your app's a blast and totally fair. Sis, you just gotta shake off that bad luck. It's not Mom's code's fault!"

There was Mom, typing away responses to her online fans, vowing her algorithm was the pinnacle of fairness, untouched by human hands. Basking in the glow of all that fake adoration.

I bit my tongue and played along with a quiet, "Yeah, it's super cool."

I figured, let her soak up the glory for now.

I was the picture of sweetness for days after that. Then, the perfect chance came. Mom was off, dragging my ecstatic brother to check out the grand opening of some fancy mall, leaving me with the run of the place.

I inhaled deeply and made a beeline for Mom's sacred workspace.

That off-limits laptop? I booted it up with a guess at the password: bingo, bro's birthday for the win.

I dove into the "Shake for Allowance" codebase like a pro. There it was, the heart of the beast, lines of code glaring back at me. Just as I suspected.

All those late nights grinding through my comp sci courses were about to pay off.

I sidestepped the digital landmines and tweaked the core logic with surgical precision. Mission accomplished, I wiped my digital fingerprints and left everything just so.

Day one of the new month rolled around.

"Time for our lucky shake!" Mom cheered, like clockwork.

Brother dearest snatched up his phone, shaking it like he was trying to wake it up from a deep sleep.

The screen blinked, and a bright "0" flashed before our eyes.

My brother froze, his voice tinged with panic. "Mom! What's going on? It's busted! It's gotta be busted!"

Mom's eyebrows knitted together, a flicker of confusion passing over her face.

With mom and my little bro watching like hawks, I grabbed my phone with cool composure and gave it a casual flick.

"10,000 dollars" flashed across the screen, bold and unmissable.

My brother's eyes popped wide, as big as saucers.

Mom's face went from shock to suspicion in a heartbeat. She glared at my phone, then shot me a look that could drill holes, searching for any sign of a trick.

"No way!"

She gasped, disbelief coloring her voice. "How on earth did you shake out ten grand?!"

Then, as if she realized how it sounded, she backpedaled quickly, "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just shocked you got so lucky."

I kept my voice innocent, with a sprinkle of surprise that felt just right. "You said it, Mom. My luck's finally turned around.

"Are you so shocked because you think I don't deserve the ten thousand? You want to take it back?"

Mom's face went through a whole rainbow of colors, ending in a stormy shade of gray, but she ended up transferring the money to me anyway.

I wasted no time turning that cash into a stack of the latest coding books and a beefed-up second-hand computer.

Later that day, my phone would not stop buzzing. It was Mom.

I barely got a "Hello?" out before she came at me with a voice full of thunder. "Rosie! Get back here this instant!"

I knew the storm finally hit.

I pushed open the door we all knew too well, and there was Mom, sitting on the couch with the laptop glowing in front of her.

Her face was a mask of fury, and there was my brother, curled up on the armchair, gaming like he did not have a care in the world.

"Out with it! Did you do this?" Mom jabbed a finger at the screen. "Messing with the core code? You've got some guts! To think I've been harboring a traitor!"

It was clear she went through the code with a fine-tooth comb and caught my signature move.

No point in denying it then.

"Yes," I said boldly, "I'm the one who changed it."

"You dare admit it?! Do you realize that's illegal? Messing with someone else's stuff, did I raise you to be like this?!"

"Your app was rigged. I just fixed it to make it fair again."

"Rigged? What are you talking about!" Mom's eyes darted, her voice rising to hide her unease. "That was just a test! You don't get how hard I work! I tried to push you a little, and this is how you thank me?"

Years of feeling second-best, of anger and hurt I carried through two lifetimes, came pouring out.

"Ever since I can remember, he's always been first in line. You use that lousy app to pinch pennies from my allowance. Your bias couldn't be more obvious! And now you have the nerve to call me heartless? Who was it that started being biased in the first place?"

"Biased? How have I been biased?" Mom snapped, her face flushed with anger. "He's the younger one. As his sister, shouldn't you look out for him? I can't believe I wasted all these years raising you!"

My brother, who was quiet, finally piped up with a lazy smirk, "Doesn't Mom treat us the same? I just got lucky and won some cash. How can you blame her? Just because you're unlucky doesn't mean you can accuse her of playing favorites."

Watching them, a mother and son duo, one in denial, the other feigning innocence.

I said to them, "Of course you don't think she's biased, because you're the golden boy."

I took a deep breath, did not give them another look, and walked out the door.

Little did she know, I was at the top of my game. Starting over with my tech skills was no big deal.

With a little bit of savings from odd jobs and a hand from friends, I managed to get by on my own for a while.

Then, just like that, a new chance came my way.

The city was buzzing with excitement for the upcoming "Code Quest," a hackathon aimed at young tech wizards.

The grand prize? An internship at a leading tech company and industry-wide acclaim.

That's when I remembered my mom mentioning she would be competing.

Sure enough, there she was on the competition's poster, her name and photo among the VIPs and contenders.

Next to her portrait was her pitch for the Shake for Allowance app, all about leveraging tech to sprinkle a little fairness and fun into family life.

I snorted and signed up on the spot.

My mission was clear: to craft an app that embodied real fairness, warmth, and care.

I was going to outshine her in every way, both in vision and tech.

Enter my brainchild, the "Family Growth Tree" app.

Like hers, it had a shake feature for earning "nourishment," but with a core algorithm that guaranteed true randomness.

However, there's the kicker: it wove in shared family goals, rewards for learning milestones, and a system for cheering each other on with likes.

It was a blend of financial incentives and emotional connection, all about growing together.

Competition day arrived, and there she was in the VIP seats, as dazzling and composed as ever, basking in the crowd's admiration.

When the emcee announced my name and project, I caught a fleeting look of shock and shadow cross her face.

She presented first, all charm, talking up the "fun" and "fair randomness" of her app's shake feature.

"I hope this app reaches every big family out there! Thanks, everyone!"

The applause that followed left her looking pretty pleased with herself.

However, then it was my turn, the grand finale. The moment she saw me step up, her face flickered with surprise.

I took the stage with a cool head, showcasing the "Family Growth Tree," its heart and soul.

It was about nurturing love and attention, a diary of our shared journey.

"I wish for every kid out there to feel their parents' love, to never be left out in the cold. That's what drove me to start this project."

Ignoring my mom's death glare, I settled back into my seat among the other contestants, tuning in as the host started rattling off the winners.

"And the grand prize goes to-"

I glanced at my mom, her eyes shimmering with hope, and I could not help but let out a silent, bitter laugh.

Next thing I knew, my name was echoing through the hall, along with the title of my project.

"Big congrats to Rosie Jackson for her 'Family Growth Tree'! Come on up and claim your prize!"

The room burst into cheers and clapping.

However, then, a harsh voice cut through the celebration.

"Excuse me, head judge! I've got to challenge the fairness of this outcome!" My mom's face was ghostly pale as she jabbed a finger in my direction. "This contestant, Rosie, she's my daughter! She was just thrown out of our house for her bad behavior! I bet she's nicked my core code or ideas, she's not capable of this on her own!"

The crowd gasped, all eyes and cameras suddenly on us.

I stared at her, her face twisted in anger, and felt a chill in my heart.

I grabbed the mic: "Everyone, her 'Shake for Allowance' app? It's not about family fun. It's about playing favorites with sons over daughters! She's been using tech to mess with me, her own kid, to control and hurt me, both in my head and my wallet!

"She shouldn't even be here!"

My mom stood there, stunned.