The woman at the redemption counter rolled her eyes without any attempt to hide it.

She tore off a 20-dollar scratch card and tossed it in front of me. "You're beyond saving! How did Westridge University even admit a student like you?"

I had heard words like that too many times already. From my roommate, from strangers, and now from her. They no longer stung.

I took the scratch card, thanked her, and left without scratching it on the spot.

I had barely walked two steps when my phone rang. When I saw "Mom" on the screen, I froze for a moment.

That contact felt like it belonged to another lifetime, distant and unfamiliar.

"Hello." I answered just before the call would have gone to voicemail.

Mom's sharp voice came through immediately. "Hmph, I thought you'd have more backbone than to answer my call.

"The scratch cards I gave you at the start of the semester should be all used up by now, right? How much did you win on the last one?"

I told her the truth. "20 dollars."

The mockery in her tone deepened. "Tsk, well your luck isn't bad then. You didn't starve to death."

I could not take it anymore.

"Mom, do you know how I've been surviving this semester? On handouts from my roommate and digging through trash for leftover food! And today, if my advisor hadn't been kind enough to buy me a meal, I probably would've collapsed and ended up in the hospital!"

I thought hearing about what I had been through might change her mind.

Instead, she let out a scornful laugh. "So what, you're trying to brag to me about your good luck? How you ran into a nice roommate and a nice advisor?

"Elena Marshall, I want you to understand that you shouldn't rely on that kind of wishful thinking!

"If you could get into Westridge on luck, then getting enough to eat on luck shouldn't be that hard either, should it?"

Tears spilled from my eyes.

I screamed into the phone. "I got into Westridge and won those competitions through hard work! I never once said I got into college because of luck!"

My outburst only made Mom more impatient.

"Stop putting on an act. What hard work? I gave birth to you. Don't you think I know what you're capable of? When I was pregnant with you, I deliberately fell down the stairs a few times and still couldn't get rid of you. If that's not good luck, what is?"

When I heard those words, my blood felt like it froze instantly. This was the first time she had ever said something so blunt and cruel to me directly.

I had heard relatives gossip about it before.

After Mom got pregnant, a rural medical worker told her I was a girl. She did not want to keep me.

Abortion technology back then was not as advanced as it was now. She did not have the courage to go through with it, so she gave birth to me.

What she had not expected was a difficult labor that resulted in a hysterectomy. She could never have children again. My father divorced her because she could no longer give him more children.

All the pieces suddenly connected.

Anger and grief erupted all at once.

"If I'd known I'd have to survive on scratch cards, do you think I would've chosen to be born?"

"Oh, so now you're complaining?" Mom snorted coldly on the other end of the line.

"Fine then. From now on I'll just switch to ten-dollar cards instead. You've got good luck anyway, so I might as well save myself some money!"

With that, she hung up with a sharp click. I knew she had probably blocked me again.

I returned to the dorm in a daze and stared blankly for a long time at the scratch card I had just exchanged.

Finally, I gathered the courage to start scratching.

First row, nothing. Second row, nothing either. By the third row, still nothing.

By the time I reached the last row, I closed my eyes in resignation and scratched randomly.

After a long moment, I opened my trembling eyes.

I had won! The prize column read five million dollars!

For a moment, all kinds of emotions tangled in my chest. But the strongest one was joy.

The grand prize had to be claimed at the lottery center. I did not waste any time. I got up and bolted out the door.

Fortunately, the school was not far away. Even though I had no money for transportation, I walked for half an hour and arrived.

The moment I received the money, I still felt like I was dreaming. I stared at the string of numbers on my bank card over and over again, tears streaming down my face.

I went to the most expensive restaurant in the city and finally ate my fill. People coming and going could not help but stare at me devouring my food like I had not eaten in weeks.

Mom was right. My luck really was incredible.

After wandering around all day, I had just returned to the dorm when Mom called.

"Sweetie, did you win the lottery?"

The affectionate nickname made my skin crawl. I had forgotten how long it had been since she last called me that.

Even when she found out I got into Westridge, she had been lukewarm at best.

"Win what lottery? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mom got anxious immediately. "Elena Marshall, don't play games with me! I saw it on the news! Today someone in the city won the scratch card grand prize! I recognized the winner's back immediately. It was you! I could spot you anywhere."

I was incredibly frustrated.

At the time, I had been so overwhelmed by the joy of winning that all I could think about was claiming the prize quickly and getting a proper meal.

I had forgotten to disguise myself better so people I knew would not recognize me.

"You've got the wrong person. It wasn't me!"

After throwing out that line, I hung up in a hurry. She kept calling, but I did not answer. Eventually, I blocked her.

I thought that would make her settle down.

Early the next morning, Danielle shook my bed frame. "Elena, get up right now. Something terrible happened!"

Her next sentence jolted me wide awake. "Your mom is on the roof of the research building threatening to see you. If you don't come, she says she's going to jump!"

My drowsiness vanished instantly. I leapt out of bed and ran outside in my pajamas, hair a mess.

"I want to expose my daughter, Westridge student Elena Marshall! She's always relied on her good luck and loves gambling. She has no respect for her mother.

"Now that she's won the grand prize, she wants to cut ties with me. Does a student like this deserve to attend Westridge?"

Even though it was early morning, there were already quite a few students out exercising. Everyone had stopped what they were doing.

They gathered around to watch.

Some cursed me. Some envied me. But most just wanted to see the drama unfold.

Looking at Mom on the rooftop acting like she had lost her mind, I opened my mouth to shout for her to come down. The words reached my lips, but I swallowed them back.

Since she said I loved gambling, then this time I would gamble that she did not have the guts to jump. So I quietly turned around, left the crowd, and returned to my dorm.

I wrote an application for a study abroad research program.

Fortunately, I won the bet.

Mom valued her life too much to actually jump. When she realized no amount of theatrics would make me meet her, and when the wind whipped around her on that exposed rooftop, she finally backed down.

The school, preferring to avoid scandal, called me in for counseling.

When Mr. Palmer heard that the scratch cards were the living allowance my own mother gave me, he went silent. He said he would not interfere with the matter anymore.

The school also tightened security and stopped allowing unrelated people onto campus.

The study abroad research program was not difficult to apply for. Considering my decent entrance exam scores, they gave me a spot.

Mr. Palmer told me to hurry and apply for a passport.

I did not drag my feet. After preparing all the materials, I went immediately to apply for my passport.

The staff member held my ID and worked at the computer for a long time. I watched as everyone around me finished their applications. I started to sense something was wrong.

"Ms. Marshall, I'm sorry. Your application cannot be approved at this time."

After a long while, the staff member finally spoke, shaking their head.

"We found that there is a lawsuit filed against you. According to regulations, you cannot apply to leave the country."

Confused, I opened my phone. In my blocked messages, I found one from several days ago.

I looked closely. The sender was an unfamiliar court number.

The message clearly stated that my mother had taken me to court on the grounds of "failure to provide financial support to a parent."