Chapter 1

I was beaten to disability by the school bully and his gang, but my mom—a top-tier lawyer—became the defendant's attorney.

In court, she tore me apart with her words, delivering a flawless not-guilty defense for the guy who nearly killed me.

All because that guy's father was her benefactor who'd once funded her college education.

When I confronted her, Mom said righteously:

"Everyone is equal before the law. I can't compromise my professional ethics just because you're the victim."

"Jacob just got a little impulsive. I can't bear to ruin his entire life."

Watching the assailant swagger out of the courthouse, I smiled.

I pulled out the severance agreement I'd prepared from my bag and threw it in her face.

"Since you're so devoted to your professional ethics and repaying favors—"

"I hope you can defend the rest of your life just as well."

Mom didn't look at the agreement.

To her, this was just another rebellious stunt from her teenage son.

"Ethan, are you done with your tantrum?"

She picked up the paper from the floor and, without even glancing at it, crumpled it into a ball and tossed it in the trash.

"Tonight your Uncle Greg is hosting a party at The Golden Pavilion. You're coming with me."

"Jacob will be there too. Perfect chance for him to apologize, and we can all move past this."

I stared at her in disbelief.

Move past this?

I was still in a wheelchair. The perpetrator had just walked free.

And she wanted me to attend his party?

"I'm not going."

I spat out three cold words and wheeled myself toward the exit.

Behind me came Mom's voice, seething with suppressed rage.

"Ethan! Can't you be less petty about this?"

"Your uncle's family doesn't have much money. He spent half a month's salary on this dinner."

"If you don't go, you're disrespecting me and disrespecting him!"

I didn't look back. I spun the wheels frantically, escaping this suffocating place.

Outside the courthouse, the glaring sunlight made me dizzy.

Dad's car was parked by the curb.

When he saw me come out, he rushed over, looking timid as always.

"Ethan, how'd it go? What was the verdict?"

Looking at this man who'd spent his whole life being a doormat in this family, I felt a wave of helplessness.

"Not guilty."

Dad froze, his mouth hanging open, unable to speak.

"How could... Your mom said it was just a formality, didn't she?"

"She said she'd try to get Jacob probation. How could it be not guilty?"

I let out a bitter laugh.

"Dad, your wife is a top-tier lawyer."

"Whoever she wants acquitted gets acquitted."

"Even if that person shattered her own son's leg."

Dad wrung his hands, looking uncomfortable.

"This... this... Your mom must have her reasons."

"That Greg guy really did help her..."

"Enough."

I cut him off.

"Take me to the hospital. I'm not going home."

Dad hesitated, glancing back at the courthouse entrance.

"Um... Your mom just texted. She wants us to go straight to The Golden Pavilion."

"She said if we don't go, she'll freeze my credit card."

I looked at this man in front of me.

Fifty years old, living like a dog.

All his finances controlled by Mom. He didn't even dare raise his voice.

"Then you can go."

I pulled out my phone and called for an accessible ride-share.

"I'll manage on my own."

"Ethan! Don't be like this..."

Dad tried to grab me. I shook him off.

"Dad, if you still want to call me your son, don't go to that dinner."

"If you go, don't bother visiting me again."

The ride-share arrived.

The driver helped lift me into the car.

Through the window, I watched Dad standing there, torn.

Finally, he sighed and got into his own car.

His destination: The Golden Pavilion.

I closed my eyes. Tears finally streamed down.

This was my family.

A mom overflowing with misplaced kindness. A weak, incompetent dad.

And me—the dispensable sacrifice in this household.

At the hospital, I'd barely lain down when my phone started buzzing nonstop.

On Ins, Jacob had posted a nine-photo grid.

In the pictures, he raised a wine glass, beaming.

Mom sat in the place of honor, smiling gracefully and elegantly.

The caption read:

"Thanks to Ms. Sullivan! Justice may be delayed, but it's never denied! Cheers!"

Justice?

Fuck his justice.

I opened the comments.

Full of ass-kissing from Jacob's loser friends.

"Badass!"

"Where's the cripple? Not here drinking?"

Jacob's reply:

"Probably crying at home, hahahaha."

I stared at the screen, fingers trembling.

Suddenly, a new transfer notification popped up.

From Mom.

Amount: $2,000.

Note: "Stop throwing tantrums. Buy yourself something nice to eat. I already told Greg he doesn't need to pay your medical bills. Their family is struggling. We need to be understanding."

I stared at those words, my stomach churning.

I wanted to puke.

I hurled my phone at the wall.