I looked at Mom's flushed face and hesitated.

Maybe... maybe last night was just impulsive.

Maybe the favoritism and all the hurt weren't really intentional.

In the end, I gave in.

***

At the hospital, Mom lay in bed groaning. "Everything hurts. This hurts, that hurts... Doctor, I want a full checkup."

The doctor wrote up the orders, and I spent the whole day running around the hospital—grabbing meds, dropping off samples, paying bills.

Mom kept demanding more tests. Head CT. Full-body bone scan. One after another.

I didn't complain. I just paid quietly every time.

Before long, my savings were almost drained.

On the third day, I finally asked, "Mom, do you really need all these tests?"

"What would you know!"

Her voice instantly shot up. "I'm this sick and you think I shouldn't get checked? Feeling bad about the money already? I raised you all these years. Do you know how much that cost—"

"I'll start cashing out the CD." I cut her off, exhausted. "It matures today."

Mom's face lit up immediately. "That's my girl. I knew you were a good daughter."

That night, I dragged myself back from the hospital cafeteria carrying dinner.

Right before I pushed open the ward door, I heard voices inside.

"Mom, she really started the withdrawal?"

Sophie's voice.

"She did. Twenty grand. Once it clears, that'll keep us going for a while."

I pressed myself against the door and held my breath.

"Once we get all the money, we'll say this hospital can't treat the illness and we need to go to a bigger city. Make her keep paying. Then after that, we block her."

"No rush." Mom sounded completely calm. "Keep her calm for a couple more days. Once all the money's in, we'll deal with the rest. She's softhearted. Easy to manipulate."

My hand shook on the doorknob.

So that was the truth.

I quietly stepped back and walked away.

I stood by the window at the end of the hallway for a long time.

The next day, relatives heard Mom was hospitalized and came to visit.

The room was packed. Fruit baskets and flower bouquets filled every corner.

Mom lay in bed dramatically talking about how hard she'd worked raising her two daughters.

Sophie stood beside her, carefully helping her drink water. The perfect mother-daughter scene.

Once everyone had gathered, I cleared my throat. "Since the whole family's here, tell me if this sounds fair."

The room went silent.

"I'm planning to buy a place in the city where I work. I'm six grand short on the down payment." I kept my voice calm. "Mom gave Sophie twenty thousand dollars for her future. So asking for six thousand as her daughter isn't too much, right?"

Mom's smile instantly froze.

The relatives exchanged looks. Someone quietly asked, "Twenty thousand? Since when?"

The cup in Sophie's hand jerked. Water splashed across the bed.

"Mom, what do you think?" I looked her straight in the eye. "Six grand isn't much for you, right? You love your daughters so much. You wouldn't play favorites, would you?"

Mom opened her mouth, her face going from red to pale.

She glanced around the room. Every relative was staring at her now—curious, suspicious, waiting.

"I..." Her voice came out strained. "I'm in the hospital right now. Where would I even get that kind of money—"

"No rush." I smiled. "I can wait until you're discharged. Or you can lend me six thousand from the twenty grand you gave Sophie. We're both your daughters. We should be treated the same, right?"