I accidentally come across a post made by my mom's smurf account on the Internet.

"Is it too cheap for me to prepare just a set of gold bars as a coming-of-age gift for my daughter?"

My heart skips a beat.

My parents are known for being extremely stingy. To think that they are willing to spend this much on me!

I'm worried that my parents might overwork themselves just to prepare such a lucrative gift, so I take a screenshot and save the link to a three-year vacation tour that's priced at 999 dollars.

Then, I decide to respond to the post as an anonymous user. "Your daughter will feel very happy as long as she receives her parents' love. No materialistic gift can ever outshine that."

Five minutes later, Mom responds to me, "Thank you for your suggestion, but I've already taken my darling on a graduation trip in Enora last week. She had so much fun there."

I was stunned for a few seconds before I tapped into the person's account with trembling fingers.

The newest photo showed Mom and Dad standing in front of Angelo Tower with a woman, who looked to be about the same age as me.

The woman was dressed in Verisio's latest haute couture-style from head to toe. The bag she was carrying was worth a year of Mom's and Dad's supposed salary.

Mom was looking at the camera with love overflowing from her eyes as she locked arms with the woman.

Meanwhile, Dad, who always claimed that he was swamped with work, was making a heart sign with the woman.

There were also a few shopping bags from luxury brands in the background of the photo.

My fingertips felt ice cold as I scrolled back to the replies.

"I already brought my princess to Enora to celebrate her graduation last week."

The person had also left a new reply under the previous one.

"But I still want to plan a surprise for her, so I booked the banquet hall on the top floor of the hotel to throw a birthday party for her and invited all her classmates. I can't wait to see her happy face!"

Several photos of the hall's decorations were attached to the reply. There were crystal chandeliers, massive flower displays, and a dedicated team of event organizers.

The location of the photos indicated that they were taken in the five-star hotel in the heart of the city, the most luxurious building in the area.

The amount of money needed to book the hall for a single night was enough to cover my family's expenses for the next three years.

I remembered how Mom had held my hands as she vented her frustrations some time in the past.

"Dad's business is going through a rough patch, Ally. I'm also at risk of being laid off from my company. Can we just buy a cake and celebrate your birthday at home? I'll definitely make it up to you once our family's financial situation stabilizes."

I remembered feeling heartbroken when I hugged her and said, "I don't need a grand birthday party, Mom. I just want our family to stay happy and healthy."

Looking back on the encounter, I realized that Mom's promise to compensate me in the future wasn't actually directed toward me but at her other daughter.

The truth had come to light without any warning.

I collapsed into the chair in front of my battered desk and stared at my surroundings in a daze.

My bedroom was less than 100 square feet. The paint was peeling from the walls. I had used the same desk since elementary school. The corners had already turned white from the passing of time. The most expensive garment that I owned cost less than 20 dollars.

Mom was always saying, "We're just a regular family. Don't compare yourself to your fellow classmates."

However, I now knew that our family wasn't regular at all.

Mom and Dad simply treated me as a "regular" person.

Dad always left for work early and returned late while Mom was always busy with chores when she wasn't working.

I couldn't help but wonder where they found the time and money to go on a trip to Enora with their other daughter.

I looked down at my phone and scrolled through it until I found Mom's number. I then pressed the call button.

The call rang about eight times before she picked up.

"Hello. Did you need something, Ally? I'm a little busy right now," she said impatiently.

I could vaguely hear the sounds of a piano in the background.

My throat tightened as I asked, "Where are you, Mom?"

"I… I'm at the grocery store. I needed to buy some vegetables. What's wrong? Did you run out of money? I'll transfer 200 dollars to you later."

When I remained silent, she continued, "Why aren't you saying anything? Are you ill?"

I forcefully suppressed my sobs and said, "I want you to come home. Right now."

Mom was silent for a few seconds on the other end of the line before she asked, "Why are you being so immature? I'm busy right now. Let's talk later tonight."

"I want you to come home now!" I shouted before I softened my voice and mumbled in a teary voice, "My head hurts so much, Mom. I think I have a fever."

It was my first time lying to Mom.

In the past, whenever I got sick, Mom would immediately rush to my side. She even carried me to the clinic that was two blocks away when I started running a high fever in the middle of the night once.

The doctor had said that my life would be in danger if she had been a second too late.

Mom kept vigil by my bedside the entire night, crying until her eyes were swollen.

"Alright. I'll be home soon. Stay in bed and don't move around."

A bitter sensation spread through me after I hung up.

Mom cared about me. She probably had a valid reason for having that photo. Perhaps the woman was her relative's child. Perhaps she had simply taken the picture for her friend.

I tried my best to comfort myself.

…

Mom burst through the door about 20 minutes later, carrying a bag of antipyretics and fruits.

"Why did you suddenly catch a fever? Didn't you cover yourself with your blanket at night?" she asked as she brushed her hand against my forehead, frowning slightly. "You don't feel hot."

I looked at her and spotted a new necklace peeking from her collar. It was the same necklace that she had been wearing in the photo.

I had seen the same necklace in a magazine. It cost close to 10,000 dollars.

I felt as if something heavy was weighing my heart down. The hope that I had been desperately clinging to was extinguished.

Mom had always treated me well in the past, but she always acted miserly when it came to materialistic things. She constantly talked about our family's abysmal financial situation and reminded me to behave maturely.

We couldn't spend frivolously because Dad worked himself to the bone to provide for us. I also had to start working when I entered university to pay for my own school fees.

As a result, I had no choice but to make up excuse after excuse to explain my absence from my class gatherings.

I hesitated for a long time before asking Mom if I could buy a book that wasn't related to my academics, only for her to cry about how we were poor.

It turned out that she was just saving all her money to spend on her other daughter.

"Let's take your temperature."

Mom rummaged through the first aid kit until she found the thermometer.

I quietly watched her as she shook it, feeling like my heart was being stabbed by knives.

I always told myself that I had to be more understanding of Mom and Dad, reminding myself that their lives weren't a walk in the park either.

However, when faced with the truth, my understanding of their circumstances felt like a massive joke.

My eyes reddened as I opened my mouth. I was going to question Mom for the first time and the last time.

"Isabelle's mother gave her a laptop for her birthday, Mom. Michelle's parents brought her on a trip to Heatherfield for five days. Even Rachel, who's less well off than we are, received a handmade scarf from her mother. She even saved up enough money to buy the art supplies that Rachel wanted."

Mom's hand froze in the air at my words. Her smile stiffened.

"But," I continued as I frantically wiped my tears and fixed a smile on my face. "I told them that I didn't envy them. I told them that my mother gets up every morning to make breakfast for me, and she hasn't missed a single day in six years.

"When I broke a bone in second grade, she took off from work for a whole month to take care of me, carrying me up and down the stairs every day. She never scolded me when I flunked my exams. Instead, she would just hug me and tell me to try harder next time.

"There's no way that my mother doesn't love me and give me the best that she can. I'm about to turn 18 soon, so she's probably preparing a surprise for me.

"Mom… You…"

I had so much more to say—so many more grievances that I hadn't expressed. But I couldn't stop my tears from falling.

My throat tightened painfully to the point that I couldn't speak. I could only force myself to look up at her.

Mom clumsily wiped the tears from my eyes, but they continued to endlessly roll down my face. She sighed and remained silent.

A long time passed before she murmured, "It's not that I don't love you, Ally. It's just that… Our family's going through a rough patch right now. Your father's business isn't doing well, and my department—"

I raised my hand and scrubbed my face. My voice sounded utterly wrecked when I said, "I know that it hasn't been easy for you. That's why I've been wearing the same 20-dollar uniform for three years and using the same 10-dollar bag for five years.

"I've never asked for a birthday present that costs more than 20 dollars. I've also never signed up for any tutoring classes. I earned all my academic achievements through my own effort."

My voice had turned hoarse by the time I was done speaking.

I looked up at Mom while clinging to one last thread of hope.

"I've never cared about the amount of money that you give me, Mom. I don't need a laptop, and I don't need a trip to Enora. I just want to experience the things that rightfully belong to me. Am I wrong for thinking that way?

"I want to know without a doubt that you and Dad will always be my pillars of support during my 18th birthday."

I wished that I could cut my heart from my chest and show her my inner thoughts. I wanted her to know that I had strived to be as mature as possible in the last 18 years—to know that I had always been understanding of their plights.

But what about Mom? Why was she staying silent? Why wasn't she tripping over herself to give me an explanation and promise that she would compensate me?

Why wasn't she crying while telling me that she had her reasons? Why wasn't she telling me that I was the only daughter that she loved?

"Say something!" I shouted as I shoved her.

Mom was shocked by my sudden outburst. She frantically tried to pull me into her arms, but I dodged away.

Silence descended upon us, leaving only the sounds of my muffled crying.

A long time passed before Mom finally said, "I know that you've had a hard time in the last few years. Your 18th birthday is coming up. We'll definitely—"

"I want to have a party in the five-star hotel in the city," I blurted out, interrupting her impatiently. "I want to invite all my classmates."

I was testing Mom to see if she would choose me, her biological daughter.

The air around us seemed to freeze.

Just then, Mom's phone started ringing with her special ringtone.

Her face twisted slightly when she glanced at the screen, and she moved to reject the call.

However, I snatched the phone away before she could do so.

I was seconds away from answering the call when Mom suddenly shouted, "Okay! Dad and I will host a five-star birthday party for you!"

The name continued to flash on the screen, stinging my eyes.

However, I halted my movements. My nerve failed me, and I lost the strength to answer the call; I didn't want to lose the affections that so rarely came my way.

There was a wicked voice screaming within me. "I have to prove that I'm better than her!"

I nodded and returned Mom's phone to her.

Mom turned off her phone and sat with me as we planned my birthday party.

I surrendered to the warmth spreading through me, fully aware that it was a hollow charade.

After that, Mom took me shopping for new clothes.

When I exited the changing room, I caught her speaking to someone on the phone.

"Okay. I'll come over right now…" she said in the same gentle tone that she had used to lie to me countless times.

However, I knew that her gentleness was genuine this time.

Mom hastily scanned the QR code to pay for my clothes, saying, "Pack up all the clothes that she tried just now."

She then turned to me and said, "I have some urgent business to attend to. I'll be back later to make dinner for you."

I suddenly burst out laughing as I listened to the endless beeping that resounded from the cash register.

I finally owned clothes that were worth more than 100 dollars, but in exchange, Mom abandoned me.

The metallic taste of blood permeated my tongue.

The sales assistant told me that I had such a loving mother, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I had been abandoned by the entire world.

I clenched my fists, feeling at a loss for what to do.

Didn't I already give up on pursuing the truth? Why did Mom abandon me again when I was already turning a blind eye to their lies?

My body moved before my mind registered what I was doing.

…

I tailed Mom to the five-star hotel that she had posted about.

It was my first time stepping foot in such an extravagant establishment.

I felt like a thief sneaking into a banquet and had trouble regulating my breathing.

The receptionist curiously eyed my jacket that had faded from countless washes before his gaze strayed to the branded shopping bags I was holding.

I said before he could get a word in, "I'm looking for my mother. She booked a hall here for my birthday party—"

The receptionist swiftly called his colleague over before I could finish my sentence. "Please escort Ms. Shore to Room 803. She's one of our esteemed guests…"

The hotel staff member blabbered on and on about how grand the banquet was going to be as we entered the elevator.

"Business has been bad recently. It's been five or six years since we received such a huge order. Your parents must love you dearly. I hear that you're an only child?"

My heart twisted painfully as I stood outside the room. I had accepted the keycard from the hotel staff member, but I was getting cold feet at the last second.

If I didn't walk through the door, I could still preserve the illusion that Mom, Dad, and I were a happy family.

However, I also knew that a temporary bubble of happiness would pop sooner or later.