2: 2

I pointed at the payroll card listed on the onboarding form. "That's not my account number."

The hiring guy glanced at me and said, flat and indifferent, "I know. That's your dad's account."

Something in me went tight. "Change it to mine."

But he refused. "Can't do that. Your parents already told me. If the money goes into your account, you'll just blow it on nothing."

I was so angry I could barely breathe.

All at once this house felt like it was suffocating me.

The hiring guy pressed me. "So are you signing or not? I've got other things to do."

I shook my head. "No. Goodbye."

I quit on the spot.

After leaving the electronics factory, I didn't go straight home. Instead I posted something online:

【High school senior, SAT scores already good enough for a top-tier university. Offering one-on-one tutoring. Free trial lesson available.】

Before long, several parents reached out to me.

I picked the family that was closest.

The student was a girl in eighth grade. I gave a trial lesson at their place, and both the girl and her parents were happy with it.

In the end we settled on two hundred dollars an hour, tutoring for the whole summer, which came out to about fifty thousand dollars in fees.

That was enough to cover my college expenses.

As I was leaving, the parent paid me five thousand up front and begged me not to take on any other students.

I nodded and agreed.

With five thousand dollars in my account, I felt like I finally had some ground under me.

At least I wouldn't have to live at the mercy of my biased parents anymore.

Even if it really came down to cutting ties, I could stand on my own two feet with what I knew.

When I got home, the air in the house was ice-cold.

Everyone stared at me, unhappy.

My father let out a cold snort. "Nora Simmons, I never thought you'd turn out this lazy and useless. You've disgraced this whole family."

I frowned. "What did I do?"

He stood up and slammed his hand on the table. "What did you do? You've got the nerve to ask?"

"I went to all that trouble to find you a job at the electronics factory, and you quit? Why?"

I said, plainly, "Twenty-five hundred a month. The pay was too low."

He sneered. "All you know how to do is bury your head in books. What do you understand about anything?"

I went quiet.

Bookworm. It was a label they'd stuck on me that never peeled off.

When we were little, my sister sang and danced, and they were proud of her.

Me, they criticized. Bad with words, no use to anyone.

To make them happy, I studied hard, thinking that if my grades were good enough, I'd finally earn their approval.

But it never occurred to me that they'd just see me as a bookworm, worth nothing at all.

So it turned out that when parents don't love a child, nothing that child does is ever right.

Just then my sister's phone rang.

She pulled it out and played with it, delighted.

My eyes drifted to her phone before I could stop them, and something like envy showed in them.

The truth was, I didn't envy the phone. I envied how much our parents loved her.

My mother caught the look on my face and gave a bitter little laugh. "Nora, did you find out I bought Emma a phone?"

"Is that why you didn't want the job? Because you don't have a phone and it stung?"

She took out a small box. "You've got mother all wrong. You have a phone too."

I froze.

A trace of warmth rose in me, and with it a trace of guilt toward my parents.

Could it be that I'd misunderstood them? That they really did love me, and I'd been overthinking all along?

But when I opened that box, I went rigid where I stood.

3: 3

Inside the box was an outdated basic phone, the kind made for seniors.

It couldn't do anything except make calls and send texts.

Next to Emma's brand-new smartphone, it was a world apart.

The funniest part was that my parents kept chattering away beside me. “Nora, we've already been more than fair. Can you stop nitpicking every little thing?”

I held the phone up and waved it in front of them. “You really think this is fair?”

My mom said, “Oh, come on, it's still a phone, isn't it?”

“You use your own phone for calls day to day, and if you ever need an app, just go find Emma and borrow hers.”

“You two can share one. No point wasting money on two.”

The sheer absurdity of it left me with nothing to say.

Early the next morning, I went straight to my student's home to tutor.

It was nearly dark by the time I got back.

The moment I walked in, my dad said, annoyed, “Where were you running around all day? I called the electronics factory. You didn't show up for work.”

I took out the report I'd prepared ahead of time. “I haven't been feeling well. I went to the hospital.”

My dad grunted. “If you're not feeling well, go rest early. But you have to go to the factory tomorrow, or there's no money for your tuition.”

Not one person in that house cared what was actually wrong with me, what illness I had.

I took out the test results and handed them over. “You should take a look.”

The results were something I'd edited online and printed out.

Because I couldn't let it go.

I wanted to test, one last time, whether my parents had any love for me at all.

My mom held the report and stared at it for a long time, her face growing paler the longer she looked. “Malignant tumor, what does that mean?”

I said, “It's cancer. The doctor said it was caught early. If we had fifty thousand dollars, there's a chance it can be cured.”

“If it's not treated, I have three or four years at most.”

“Mom, can I get treatment?”

My mom said at once, without hesitation, “Treatment. You're getting treatment.”

I looked at my dad. His brows were knotted tight. “Fifty thousand isn't a small amount. Our family can't come up with that overnight.”

“Nora, you rest first. Your mom and I will go borrow the money.”

“Emma comes too. You've got a sweet tongue. Help me smooth things over with the relatives.”

The three of them hurried out.

The house went empty again, but this time it didn't feel cold. It felt almost warm.

So it turned out that when it came to life and death, my parents wouldn't just abandon me.

They didn't come back all night.

The next morning, I heard a burst of urgent knocking at the door.

I opened it and was startled to find that it wasn't only my parents standing there. There were relatives too.

Seven or eight of them poured in and circled around me.

They clearly already knew I was sick, and they fussed over me, asking after my health.

Once the pleasantries were done, Uncle Raymond spoke first, getting to the point. “Nora, the thing is, as a child, you can't always be so selfish.”

I said, “Sorry?”

Uncle Raymond went on. “Fifty thousand is no small amount for any family.”

“If it all goes to your treatment, how are your parents supposed to live? What happens to Emma?”

“And besides, if the treatment doesn't work, wouldn't it all be for nothing?”

Another relative added, “That's right. If you ask me, just go with palliative care.”

“Have the doctor prescribe something to ease the pain. That's enough.”

“Eat what you want, drink what you want in the time you've got. Set down the burden and pass comfortably.”

So it turned out the relatives hadn't come to help me. They'd come to talk me into giving up my life.

I looked at my parents. “Is what they're saying what you two want?”

My parents' eyes darted away.

But in the end my dad looked at me and said, “Nora, this won't be nice to hear, but I have to say it plainly.”

“We raised you all these years. We're not asking you to support us in old age or pay us back, but you can't keep sucking us dry either, can you?”

“Fifty thousand. Aren't you trying to drive us to our deaths?”

My mom said too, “I looked it up online. An early-stage tumor, even without treatment, you can hold on for three or four years no problem.”

“In those three or four years, you go to school with your sister first. Maybe by then we'll have saved up the money, and you can get treatment.”

Emma hugged my arm and said, “Sis, I won't look down on you for being sick. Mom and Dad just mean we should save up and treat it later.”

I shook my head. “No. If it drags to late-stage, there's no curing it.”

“Last night you promised me you'd pay for my treatment.”

“Or is it that you were gone all night not to borrow money, but to round up backup to talk me out of it?”

My dad blew up, furious. “There's no money for treatment! You really want to bleed the whole family dry? How did I ever raise a debt-collector demon like you? If you're going to be this senseless, then we'll cut ties!​”

I was quiet for a long time, then said softly, “Then let's cut ties.”

4: 4

I took the disownment agreement out of my bag.

Two copies.

"You just need to sign," I told them.

Veins bulged at my father's temple. "You went and got the papers ready? You ungrateful girl, what is going through your head all day long?"

I gave a bleak smile. "The day I got the results back from the hospital, I made a plan for both outcomes."

"If you won't pay for my treatment, then we cut ties. Neither of us drags the other down."

My mother dissolved into tears. "Nora, don't do this. How could I ever bear it?"

She cried like her heart was breaking, yet with everyone urging her on, she signed anyway, half resisting, half giving in.

My father, like a man acting out of spite, scrawled his name in a fury.

But I saw it clearly. Right after he signed, he let out a quiet breath of relief.

As for Emma, she bit her lip and said, "Sis, I don't want to cut ties. But I know you don't want to be a burden to us, so I won't make things hard for you."

Once the signing was done, I gave them one copy and kept the other for myself.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked out without looking back.

Twenty years I'd lived in that house, and in the end everything I owned fit into one small bag.

It took me a day to rent a little place in the city.

For the next month I'd keep up my tutoring, save enough money, and quietly wait for the semester to start.

But a week later, one evening, my mother and Emma showed up.

My mother said through tears, "Nora, I had to ask around for ages before I found out where you're living now."

I frowned and said nothing.

She grabbed my hand. "Here's a little money. Go buy yourself something nourishing."

I glanced at it. Around five hundred dollars.

My mother sighed. "I've thought it over and over. You still have to go to college."

"Only with a degree can you get a good job, earn money, pay for your treatment."

"You mustn't give up. Your father and I are working on a plan too. All that talk about cutting ties, that was just anger in the moment. Don't take it to heart."

She kept insisting we weren't really cutting ties, yet she never once told me to come back home.

Emma's voice went thick with tears. "Sis, promise me. No matter what happens, you'll go to college, all right?"

I nodded slowly.

Then Emma pulled out a pledge and said, "Sis, then would you sign this? Just promising you'll definitely go to college and never give up. Otherwise you'll owe me two thousand dollars a month, all the way until you pass away, okay? Honestly, the money's nothing. I just don't want you giving up on yourself."

And then it hit me. They were afraid that once I got my community college acceptance, I'd fall apart and just drop out.

Because then Emma wouldn't have her free live-in maid during her own college years.

I signed it without a second thought.

My mother took Emma's hand and left, pleased.

Time ticked by, minute by minute, and soon the deadline for college applications arrived.

At the very last minute, I changed my choice to the aerospace university I really wanted.

My dream was the stars and the open sky. I would never let myself be trapped in that cold, loveless house.

The start of the semester was almost here when Emma suddenly called. "Sis, did you get your acceptance letter?"

"Mm," I said. "Got it."

I'd gotten it long ago. The acceptance from a top-tier university comes far sooner than the one from a community college.

Emma probed further. "So are you... going to go?"

"Of course I'm going," I said, as if it were obvious.

Emma let out a breath. "Good. Then it's a date, we'll see each other there."

I packed my things and boarded a train heading north.

After I finished checking in, a flood of texts came in all at once.

Some from Emma, some from my mother, some from my father.

Looking at them, I smiled in contempt.