Mom fell silent on the other end of the line. It was like she couldn't believe what she had just heard. Then came the shouting. "You really were just putting up a show. You can throw as much money at me as you want, but it'll never mean as much as a single word of concern from Henry!"

I'd already gone numb by then.

"Henry, transfer the money to my account by next Monday. Otherwise, don't blame me for what happens."

"You wouldn't dare! Go ahead and try getting the money back from him!"

Mom's voice was so shrill that it felt like it was drilling into my ears.

I hung up.

Evelyn pulled me into a hug and patted my back.

I used to think that if I just gave a little more, my parents would eventually see my worth, that maybe they'd give me even a fraction of the love they gave Henry.

But not anymore.

…

Monday afternoon came, and I still hadn't received the money.

I called Henry. He declined the call. But the food delivery app showed that his cafe was open.

So I called a group of street thugs who hung around the corner of the block.

A dozen men, with arms covered in loud tattoos, squeezed into tight shirts and flashy loafers, showed up. They ordered just one cup of coffee.

They started shouting over each other and playing games, causing a scene.

Customers took one look at them and bolted from the cafe.

"Get Henry out here! Pay up!" one of them yelled, slamming his hand on the table.

The cafe was a joint business, and his partner clearly didn't want trouble. He dragged Henry out of the back room without hesitation.

Henry's eyes were red. Shaking, he called me. "Ethan, this is absurd! It's just a little money. Do you really have to go this far?

"The cafe hasn't had a single customer all day. My partner's furious. Are you trying to ruin me? Call them off, will you?"

I laughed. "Pay me back, and they'll leave."

"Ethan, please. Just give me three more days, okay?" he sniffled. He was terrified.

I didn't give him an answer.

Right after that, Mom gave me dozens of calls. I declined every single one of them.

The guys told me Henry had been so scared that he ended up in a mess of snot and tears. He wrapped himself up tight and slipped out through the filthy alley behind the kitchen.

It reminded me of middle school.

Back then, I'd been bullied by a group of kids. I went home bruised and begged Mom for help, but she slapped me so hard that I hit the ground.

"Why do they only pick on you and not anyone else? It takes two to tango. You must've done something wrong," she snapped in annoyance.

But when Henry got scolded by his homeroom teacher for cheating, all he had to do was come home with red eyes and Mom immediately panicked. She even took him to see a therapist.

That same afternoon, she stormed into the school, argued with the teacher, and filed complaints everywhere she could. She didn't stop until the teacher was suspended, pending investigation.

Every time I thought about it, it felt like a slap to my face all over again.

Just then, Nancy called and told me to come home for cake. She had used her allowance to buy me a birthday cake.

Something in my chest softened. By the time I realized it, tears were already streaming down my face.

My daughter had somehow healed the wounds of my gloomy childhood.

Sure enough, Mom showed up at my office with a photo of me as a naked three-year-old the next day.

Every time someone walked in, she shoved the picture at them and cried out, "I feel so miserable. Your coworker Ethan is an ungrateful child! He won't even look at his own mother now that he's successful.

"Do you know him? He's been stealing since he was a kid. He used to take Henry's allowance! You should fire him!

"He pretends to be a devoted son, but he's cheap to the core. He even mooches off Henry for meals! Where's your boss? You can't keep someone like him around!"