After taking me to the prep academy, Mom looked at me with such intense expectation that I could barely breathe.

"Don't disappoint me again."

I flipped through the academy's textbooks and schedules. It felt less like a guide to becoming the perfect daughter and more like a blueprint for building the perfect product.

Five minutes later, I took the placement test and scored a zero.

With a grim expression, the instructor, Madeline Turner, called me into her office.

Meanwhile, Mom's face hardened with disappointment. "Natalie, you're hopeless. I've never seen a child so ungrateful in my life."

She jabbed a finger at the red X's scrawled across my test paper as she spoke. "I raised you for 18 years, and now you want to go to a university over a thousand miles away? Is this how you repay me after everything I've done for you?

"And your goal is just getting into Fairhaven University with a 1450 score? Have you forgotten what I expected from you? You were supposed to be the state's top scholar!"

She tore the test paper into pieces, then slammed a fresh copy down on the desk. "Do it again now."

My face gave nothing away as I wrote down the answers Mom wanted to see.

Ever since I'd found out I was sick, I'd read countless books about acceptance, trying to make peace with both myself and Mom.

I told myself Mom just needed to lose herself before she could find her way back. But she never seemed to reach the end of that road.

Finally, Mom looked at the perfect score and smiled. "That's more like it. Now, go back to class."

…

On the third day, Mom suddenly appeared behind me during break. She was smiling, looking nothing like her usual demanding self.

"Nat, Ms. Turner said you've been doing well lately. Want to take a trip overseas and clear your head?"

I could barely contain my excitement. I didn't know why Mom suddenly had a change of heart, but I wanted to go somewhere with her. I didn't want to have any regrets at the end.

The thought alone made my eyes sting with tears.

"I'd love to, Mom. When are we leaving?"

Without missing a beat, her expression darkened. "Natalie, it seems you still haven't learned how to be a perfect daughter."

I stared at her, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you know what other kids are doing right now? They're all in cram school, trying to get ahead. But all you think about is having fun. I honestly don't know if I can count on you for anything."

Mom went on, "Sometimes I wonder what I did wrong to end up with an ex-husband like your father and a daughter like you."

She raked her fingers through her hair, acting as though I'd committed some unforgivable sin.

Tears slid down my face. This was how it had always been. Every reward had only been a test.

Back in elementary school, Mom had promised to take me to an amusement park if I came in first in my class. But when I showed her my report card and begged her to take me, she slapped me.

"Natalie Jones! Is that why you study? Just so you can get rewarded for it?"

The blow left me stunned. Clutching my cheek, I retreated to my room.

Later, Mom did take me to the amusement park, but my heart wasn't in it.

She spent the entire day criticizing me. "You get upset if I don't bring you. But now that we're here, you act miserable. I swear, this family has done nothing but make my life harder!"

After that day, I never let myself hope for rewards again.

"All you ever do is cry and pout whenever things don't go your way! No wonder nobody wants to be around you!"

The past blurred together with the criticism ringing in my ears.

Just then, another violent pain exploded in my head. I grabbed a chair, doubled over, and started vomiting uncontrollably.

When I looked up, I met Mom's icy gaze.

"Are you done with your act? Then get back to class. I can check on your progress anytime."

I gripped the hem of my shirt tightly. "Why won't you believe that I'm sick? I—"

As usual, she cut me off mid-sentence. "Natalie Jones! Keep saying things like that, and I swear I'm done with you!"

For a brief second, I thought I saw tears glistening in Mom's eyes.

I shook my head hard. It had to be my imagination. How could she possibly cry for me, a daughter who never lived up to her expectations?

As I watched her figure disappear into the distance, I silently counted how many days I had left.

I only had four days left to live.

I forced myself to my feet, but my vision went black, and I crumpled to the floor.

When I came to, Mom was sitting beside my bed, watching me. Just like always, her first words were a reprimand.

"Natalie, can't you take care of yourself? I've told you over and over to eat properly instead of constantly trying to lose weight, but you never listen. Now, you've fainted from not eating. Is this what you wanted?"

I wanted to tell her I wasn't starving myself to lose weight. The pain had gotten so bad that I couldn't eat.

When I didn't respond, Mom let out a sigh and quietly began feeding me spoonfuls of chicken noodle soup.

I recognized the taste. She had made it herself.

I never knew how to describe our relationship. It felt like a soaking wet coat in the dead of winter. Wearing it left me cold, but taking it off didn't make it any better.

I managed to finish half the bowl of chicken noodle soup before Mom spoke up again.

"How about I take you out tomorrow? Think of it as a chance to relax."

But I didn't dare to say yes again. I simply shook my head and replied, "No. I still have a lot left to study for my prep courses."

Mom nodded, her face unreadable. Then, she said, "Good. At least you're improving. Usually, all you care about is going out and having fun.

"Tomorrow, I'm taking you to meet some friends. Their kids are retaking senior year, too, but none of them are doing as well as you. So, make sure you present yourself properly."

Her answer didn't surprise me. To her, I was just a trophy to parade in front of other people.

…

The next day, everyone sat together around the dinner table. Before I'd even finished chewing, Mom turned to me. "Nat, who wrote 'The Courtyard After Rain'?"

I froze for a beat before answering, "Ezra Thorne."

"And what was the final line of the poem?"

I was already a high school senior, yet she still treated me like a little kid, quizzing me in front of everyone.

Still, I pulled a notebook and pen from my bag and carefully wrote the line down.

The people around us immediately began complimenting me. "Just look at Natalie. She comes out to dinner with her notebooks. Meanwhile, my kid only cares about having a good time."

Despite her words, that lady was smiling when she looked at her own child.

"Natalie's going places, Donna. You'll have nothing left to worry about once she makes it," someone else said.

Mom kept nodding in response. As she looked at me, a hint of pride flickered in her eyes.

…

After everyone left, I wanted to ask Mom to take a walk by the river with me. I'd done well tonight, after all. Maybe that meant I could ask for something in return.

But the look she gave me made the words die in my throat.

"Do you know what you did wrong tonight?" Mom questioned.

I went over every moment from the evening and still couldn't figure out what I'd done to upset her.

She sat back down and slammed her hand on the table, so hard that it shook the room.

"Everyone else's kids got up and performed something, and you sat there like a statue! You're far too quiet and reserved. How are you supposed to make it in the real world acting like that? I'm calling Ms. Turner tomorrow and signing you up for extra coaching."

Mom's words blurred into a buzz in my head.

She was the one who told me that ladies should be poised and never draw attention to themselves. But now, she was criticizing me for being too quiet and reserved.

By the end, all I could see was her mouth moving. I couldn't hear a single word anymore.

My vision blurred until I finally closed my eyes against the pain. I couldn't bring myself to face the fact that I was about to die.

Even then, I still hoped Mom would notice something was wrong. I wished she'd realize I was truly sick, then apologize and tell me she'd misunderstood me.

But she didn't. She only looked down at me and snapped, "Really, Natalie? The same act again? Couldn't you come up with something new for once?"

At that moment, I gave up completely. I understood that I would never receive the love I'd been longing for.

After recovering a little, I looked up at Mom. "Would you be happy if I died?"

After the words left my mouth, silence fell between Mom and me.

Moments later, a scoff pierced the quiet. "If you want to die, then do it already. Stop holding me back. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be trapped in this small town."

Mom turned toward the window, refusing to spare me another glance. Yet, her fingers trembled ever so slightly.

I wiped my tears away before she could see me crying.

I didn't let her take me back to the prep academy. Instead, I stared at her defiantly and declared, "Give me three more days. I'll become the perfect daughter you've always wanted."

This time, it was my turn to walk away without looking back.

Back at the academy, I pushed through the discomfort and memorized every line of the handbook until I knew it by heart.

…

Three days before the end, I scored a perfect grade on the latest exam. Mom texted me to say she was proud of me and promised that once the program was over, she'd take me abroad for vacation.

I didn't believe her. Besides, I was running out of time.

With two days left, I gave a speech at the ceremony as the program's top student.

Mom called me afterward and cried the entire night. She said I was the reason she kept going and the reason she worked so hard to survive.

I thought to myself, "But Mom… I was already dying. How could I possibly be that for you?"

…

On the final day, I received the "Perfect Daughter" trophy. It was heavy in my hands.

I was the only one in the program who got it.

Looking at the trophy, I smiled. Then, my vision blurred again.

I grew up without a father, so I always wanted to make Mom proud. But no matter what I did, it was never enough for her. Now, she should be satisfied, right?

Just then, my phone rang. It was Mom, yet I didn't answer.

After ignoring the call, I went straight to the orphanage and donated every dollar I had saved to help the sick kids.

On my way out, I ran into my attending physician.

I had already lost over 30 pounds because of my illness. My doctor adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and looked at me with serious concern.

"Why aren't you in the hospital? Why aren't you getting treatment?" he asked.

The truth was, we both knew the treatment could only delay the inevitable. But I had already stopped wanting to live in this world.

…

When I returned to the academy, Ms. Turner told me the graduation ceremony would be at 3:00 pm. Mom would be there too, as the parent of the program's top student.

Ms. Turner held my hand tightly, her voice thick with admiration as she said, "Natalie, you've improved more than anyone in the program.

"You went from scoring zero on the placement test to earning the title of 'Perfect Daughter' in just seven days. Who would've believed it? Your mother isn't the only one who's proud of you. I am too."

I nodded with a smile.

Suddenly, a metallic taste rose in my throat. And by the time Ms. Turner left my dorm, I could barely see clearly anymore.

Then, I lost control of my bladder. I stared at the liquid beneath me, hating myself for not having the courage to end things sooner. But I was a coward.

Outside, the music grew louder. A voice over the loudspeaker called my name, urging me to get to the field immediately.

Yet, I wouldn't make it.

The past flashed before my eyes—Dad leaving without hesitation, and Mom holding me as she sobbed.

At that moment, the dorm door burst open.

Mom stood in the doorway, her face pale with shock. Despite her obsession with cleanliness, she pulled me tightly into her arms.

"Nat… what happened to you? Don't scare me, please…"

I reached out with what little strength I had left and held the trophy toward her. "Mom… am I your perfect daughter now?"