I rushed into the ward to find my dad lying on the bed, looking pale. When he saw me, he managed a weak smile and said, “Why couldn’t you figure out my phone password? It’s your birthday.”

“Make sure to pay the examination fee as soon as you can. Don’t make things hard for the hospital.”

The drama with Albert had spread like wildfire, so my dad must have heard about it. I let all the tears I’d been holding back flow freely.

I collapsed next to him, sobbing uncontrollably, “I’m so sorry, Dad. I’m worthless. I almost caused you to die.”

Dad weakly patted me and said softly, “I understand your struggles. It’s not your fault. I’m not upset with you.” As he spoke, he drifted back to sleep.

Fortunately, the doctor said Dad was fine. He had fainted from heat exhaustion and would need a few days of IV fluids before he could be discharged.

Now, as I sat quietly by his bedside, my heart slowly started to calm. Reflecting on everything that happened today, I was still shaken.

My dad, in his sixties, was working in 40°C heat on a construction site. He did it all for me, knowing I was at home with the kids and Albert wasn’t providing any support.

Dad worked hard to help us, and thankfully, he was brought to the hospital in time. But what if something like this happens again?

Meanwhile, Albert’s family seemed to enjoy the benefits of my sacrifices without a second thought.

Thinking about Albert and Elaine’s actions made my blood boil.

After my maternity leave ended with my daughter Lily, Albert decided to bring Elaine from the countryside to help with the baby. He was also worried about Elaine and thought it would be good for her to live in the city.

One evening, when I got home from work, I found Lily’s face covered by a small towel. She was struggling, her little arms and legs flailing around.

Panicking, I yanked off the towel and saw her face was red from being smothered. I was terrified and sweating as I searched for Elaine.

I found her upstairs, deep in conversation with our neighbor Arthur. Furious, I demanded to know why she wasn’t watching Lily properly.

Elaine simply shrugged and said, “It wasn’t on purpose. It’s just one kid—how important can she be?”

I was so angry that I ended up arguing with Albert. Elaine, crying and sniffling, came over and said, “I didn’t mean to mess up. If you don’t want me around, I can leave.”

Feeling sorry for Elaine, Albert turned to me and said, “It’s just a small mistake. Mom knows she messed up and will be more careful from now on.”

Since I needed Elaine’s help with Lily while I worked, I had no choice but to put up with it.

With Albert backing her up, Elaine grew even more reckless. She started taking Lily to the plaza every day to dance with Arthur.

The neighbors got worried and stopped me one day, saying, “Elaine is dancing with a man, and Lily’s stroller is left way off by itself.

“What if someone takes her? And it’s so hot out—Lily is left in the shade with no protection.”

I soon realized that Elaine was dancing for hours, leaving Lily unattended without feeding or changing her.

Lily cried herself hoarse from hunger, and her bottom got a painful rash. In frustration, I quit my job to care for Lily myself and sent Elaine back to her village.

I had some savings at that point and planned to stretch them until Lily started preschool before finding a new job.

But a few months later, Elaine called with terrible news. Albert’s father, Hayden, had collapsed from drinking too much.

The doctors said he’d had a stroke from his long-term drinking.

Albert was in a panic and didn’t have enough money. He begged me to use my savings to help him through this crisis.

Seeing Albert so distressed and knowing this was his father, I couldn’t say no. I handed over all my savings—over $50,000.

Albert hugged me tightly, his eyes red, and promised, “Celia, don’t worry. I’ll give you my entire salary from now on, and I’ll make sure to treat you better.”

With the money, Hayden’s life was saved, but he was left paralyzed on one side, unable to move his left arm and leg, and his speech was affected.

Hayden had always been quick-tempered, and his drinking had led to domestic abuse against Elaine.

After his stroke, his condition worsened, and Elaine cried to Albert every day, “Albert, please help Mom! She can’t keep going like this.”

Albert, feeling helpless, asked if his parents could move in with us. “I feel so sorry for Mom. I’ll take care of Dad, and he won’t be able to hurt her anymore.”

He promised to handle his father’s care while I only needed to look after Lily. I reluctantly agreed to let them move in. At first, Albert kept his promise, taking care of his dad while Elaine did some housework. I was only responsible for Lily.

Hayden’s recovery started off well; he could walk with a cane. But over time, Albert’s financial support dropped from $10,000 to $8,000, then $5,000, and eventually down to just $400 a month.

His patience wore thin with his father’s condition, leaving me to handle everything, including cleaning up after Hayden. Elaine went back to dancing.

With Albert neglecting his father again, Hayden returned to drinking. What had been manageable turned severe; he became bedridden, incontinent, and unable to move.

By the eighth year of being a full-time caregiver, I was doing all the housework, taking care of Lily, and looking after Albert’s parents.

Albert, meanwhile, grudgingly gave me just $400 a month, which I had to beg for. Only my dad continued to support me, quietly slipping me extra money.