Three years after my parents got divorced, I ran into my mom at a restaurant.

She was having dinner with her daughter. When she saw me, her expression looked a little uncomfortable.

Right before she left, she pulled up her phone and opened Venmo. "Here, let me send you some money. You and your dad can get yourselves something nice to eat."

I pushed her phone back. "No thanks, Sarah. It's not like you ever cared much about me or Dad before."

Her face tightened, and she frowned hard.

"Why do you have to be as stubborn as your father? If you had stayed with me, you wouldn't be working as a server right now. Tell your dad this—if he admits he was wrong, I'll take you back and give you a good life."

I just stared at her coldly and said nothing.

Did she not know? My dad had already been dead for three years.

Sarah Miller looked me up and down, taking in my dirty apron and my hands covered in chapped, cracked skin from the cold. She sighed softly.

"I never should have agreed to let your father take you. It's really been hard on you, hasn't it? If he can't afford to raise you, he should have let go."

I shot back coldly, "Don't worry about it, Sarah. We're strangers now. Talking like that might give people the wrong idea."

Her face darkened. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but in the end, she just fell silent.

After a long moment, she turned and walked away.

Once she was gone, I just stood there holding my tray, my fingers stiff. A coworker came over and quietly asked, "You okay?"

I shook my head.

Another coworker whispered, "Was that... was that Sarah Miller? From Miller Group? I heard she's still completely devoted to her ex-husband. She burned bridges with her whole family for him back in the day. I even saw an interview where she said the people she feels she failed the most are her ex-husband and her son."

I let out a cold laugh. "If she really felt that guilty, why would she have abandoned them?"

When they saw I didn't believe them, my coworkers rushed to explain. "She walked away with nothing for his sake. She gave up custody voluntarily. She was willing to start from scratch.

"I also heard she built a primary school in a poor mountain area and named it after her son. I think she's done more than enough."

I looked up at them, my voice calm and almost expressionless. "She pretended to be broke in front of her husband. When she left with nothing, she stuck him with all their debt. He had to donate part of his liver and sell his own blood to pay it off.

"My dad got a post-op infection and couldn't afford surgery. Meanwhile, she was at an auction buying her new boyfriend a million-dollar watch. She wouldn't even pay for my dad's medical bills.

"And to protect some guy she was seeing, she hit me so hard she damaged my ear. I can't play the piano anymore because of her."

Everyone went quiet. My coworker's eyes went wide. "You..."

I stayed perfectly calm. "Yeah. I'm her son."

They shut up immediately. Then after a moment, one of them couldn't help asking, "But didn't you just say your dad is already..."

I didn't answer. I just lowered my head and kept working, shutting out all the gossip.

After my shift, I went to a flower shop and bought a bunch of white chrysanthemums, plus a birthday cake.

At the cemetery, I put the flowers down and set the cake in front of the headstone.

My dad's smiling picture looked back at me.

I crouched down in front of the grave and softly sang "Happy Birthday."

"Happy birthday, Dad," I said quietly. "I ran into her today. I don't think she knows you're gone yet.

The next day, I showed up for my shift as usual. The restaurant was eerily quiet.

I looked up.

My mom was sitting in the middle of the dining room. In front of her sat a cup of tea, untouched. Her face was dark — the kind of dark that made your stomach drop.

The manager was wiping sweat off his forehead, forcing a smile. "Ms. Miller, we'll definitely look into what happened yesterday and get back to you with an explanation..."

Before he could finish, her eyes locked onto me. That familiar wave of pressure hit me square in the chest. I knew it. She was here for me.

I walked over, my voice hard. "Sarah, what do you want?"

She looked up at me, her tone ice cold. "Something was wrong with your food yesterday. My daughter got sick on the way home. Her father is very upset."

I smiled tightly. "So? Are you using this as an excuse to come after me? Or do you want to drag me and my dad over to apologize to Caleb like you did three years ago?"

Her expression shifted instantly. Something flickered behind her eyes — guilt, maybe, or struggle.

I knew she remembered that night three years ago. The way she'd played both me and my dad for fools.

Back then, my dad and I really thought she'd gone bankrupt. She said she'd lost her company. Said she was drowning in debt. Said she couldn't keep her head above water anymore and wanted a divorce so she wouldn't drag us down with her.

My dad worked a dozen jobs a day to pay off her debts. He got so exhausted that he could fall asleep standing up.

Debt collectors showed up at our door more than once. Finally, my dad went with them to an underground clinic and donated part of his liver. The day he came home, his face was shockingly pale.

But even then, he gritted his teeth and bought me a small cake. He even made a whole table of food.

I was starving, but I didn't touch it. Because my dad put his hand on my head and said, "Let's wait a little longer. We'll light the candles when Mom gets home."

We waited from nightfall until dawn. We reheated the food again and again.

Mom never came.

The next morning, every billboard and news feed was playing the same story. Mom was wearing a couture gown, holding Caleb's hand, having a fairy-tale wedding in front of the whole world.

I stood under the screen, tugging at my dad's shirt. I asked him quietly, "Dad... is that Mom?"

My dad stood in front of the TV, his whole body shaking. His hands were cold as ice.

He grabbed me and took me straight to the wedding.

When he burst in, the whole place went dead silent.

His eyes were red. He was so angry that he could barely control himself. "Didn't you say you were broke? You've been lying to me this whole time? I'm your husband! Why are you marrying someone else—"

His voice broke.

Caleb went pale on the spot and shrank into my mom's arms. "Sarah, is he telling the truth?"

My mom pulled him close and whispered something to calm him down.

But when she looked at us, her face went cold instantly. Like she was looking at trash.

"Security!" she snapped. "Get these two lunatics out of here!"

Right then, the whole room erupted. The insults hit me and my dad like slaps.

"Shows up with some kid and thinks he can marry into a wealthy family? Shameless."

"Everyone knows Caleb and Sarah grew up together. She's famously devoted to Caleb. Who do these nobodies think they are?"

Later, Mom came to find my dad again. She brought gifts. She kept saying we were the ones she really loved. She even said that faking the bankruptcy was just a test of his love. She told us Caleb had a terminal illness and she just wanted to grant his dying wish.

She told my dad to be patient, just a little longer.

"Really," she said. "Once he's gone, I'll bring you and Kevin back out in the open. I'll make it up to you double."

My dad was crying so hard he could barely stand. He shoved her hands off him. He pounded his fist on his chest and screamed, "You knew I donated part of my liver to pay off your debts! You knew your own son couldn't even afford to go to school! Sarah, I hate you. How could you do this to us?"

Back then, the soles of my shoes were practically worn through. But I never complained. I even said I wanted to save Mom money.

Mom just stood there. For a second, I thought I saw guilt in her eyes.

But before she could say anything, there was a crash at the door.

Caleb was standing there, white as a ghost. "Sarah... why is he here?"

Mom's face changed completely. She shoved my dad away and ran to Caleb. "Caleb, don't misunderstand. He's just some crazy man. He won't leave me alone."

Then she turned back to my dad, her face full of disgust. "You scared Caleb. Apologize to him. Now."

That night, her security guards forced my dad to his knees outside the door. I got down on my knees right next to him.

While we were kneeling outside, they were celebrating their wedding night inside. My dad and I froze outside. The snow came down hard and fast, burying us before long.

"Don't make a scene."

My mom's voice pulled me back to the present.

I looked at the woman in front of me. The memories kept replaying, over and over, until there was nothing left to feel.

She still didn't know that my dad had lost his life because of her.

When my mom saw that I wasn't saying anything, her impatience started showing.

"This is all your father's fault. He raised you to have no manners at all. He's old enough to be a grandfather, and he's still acting as unreasonable as ever."

I just stared at her. It was so absurd I almost laughed.

"Unreasonable? Dad and I haven't gone near you for three years. We've been living our own lives. Is that bothering you too?"

Her brow furrowed tightly. "What do you know about what happened between me and your father? You're just a kid."

I locked my eyes on hers. "I don't get it? Then do you? Does Caleb?"

Her voice turned cold. "When your father divorced me, did he ever think about you? He only cared about his own feelings. He never planned ahead for you. If he hadn't been so stubborn, you wouldn't be living like this."

I stared at her. Every word out of her mouth felt like nails on a chalkboard. "How dare you say that? You're the one who threw us out."

She acted like she hadn't even heard me. "Caleb's health is fragile. He can't handle stress. Asking you to move out back then was for everyone's good. And besides, he feels bad about the hard times I went through in the past. He wanted to live with me in the places I used to stay."

When I heard that, my hands went cold. Just like that, everything my dad and I had suffered through all those years became a joke.

My voice came out shaking with anger. "So what? Dad and I sleeping under bridges, sleeping on park benches — that's just too bad for us?"

She didn't say anything.

And I didn't give her another chance to speak.

"Do you know why my ear is messed up? Do you have any idea how Dad and I survived after the divorce?"

After the divorce, we lost everything. The day they kicked us out, I fought back as hard as I could. She slapped me to the ground. My ear started bleeding right there.

My dad rushed me to the hospital. After that, every time he tried to see her, they blocked him at the door. Security guards chased him away with sticks.

To pay for my ear treatment, my dad worked odd jobs all day long — anywhere that would take him. After school, I collected cardboard, handed out flyers, and sold tissue paper.

In the winter, when we had no place to stay, we slept on park benches. My dad would wrap his only heavy coat around me and shiver all night, coughing.

Then I started running fevers, over and over. One time, the fever got so bad, my ears wouldn't stop ringing. My dad carried me from clinic to clinic. In the end, he could only afford the cheapest medicine.

After that, my hearing got worse and worse. Eventually, I had to get hearing aids.

And my dad's body started falling apart too. He got swollen, then dizzy, and finally, he couldn't even stand up anymore.

The doctor said that because of the post-op infection, the rest of his liver was shutting down. The surgery would cost half 50 thousand dollars, and the follow-up treatment was a bottomless pit.