Chapter 2

I was about to call the police, but looking at the front door, I suddenly calmed down. This wasn't a break-in; someone had used a key to enter directly.

And the only person who had the key to my apartment and could do such a thing was just one person.

My heart sank. I tremblingly took out my phone and dialed: "Ava Song, did you come to my house? Did you take my bank card?"

A careless snicker came from the other end of the phone: "Yeah, it was me. Penny Song, you've been such a pushover for so many years, it's about time you were of some use. I've already used your $60,000 to buy scalped tickets. I'm going to see my idol's concert this weekend, third row in the inner circle. It's going to be awesome!"

I gripped my phone tightly: "Do you know how I saved that $60,000? How hard I worked for it?"

"Do you know that $60,000 is my life-saving money for surgery!"

"I know, Mom told me. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known you were hiding so much money, Penny Song. You've got some nerve."

"Also, you're really stupid. All your passwords are Dad's birthday. It's like you're afraid people won't guess it. The old man's been dead for so many years, you should get over it. What, are you still feeling guilty about killing Dad? You're so dumb. Bye!"

Thinking of Dad, I collapsed on the floor. Is this really karma for what happened back then?

If it wasn't for buying me a birthday cake that year, Dad wouldn't have driven out in the heavy rain, and he wouldn't have died in a car accident. I wouldn't have carried this guilt for so many years, enduring the exploitation from Mom and my sister.

Looking at the mess in the room, my heart felt like a sour, soggy bun. Fighting the urge to vomit, I made one last call to Mom, hoping against hope that this wasn't real: "Mom, my $60,000 was taken by my sister to buy concert tickets. Did you tell her about it?"

"You ungrateful money-grubber! Looks like you've saved quite a bit in two years of work. You only give the family $3,000 a month. Have you no conscience?"

"Let me tell you, don't expect the family to pay for your treatment. Your sister has been nagging about going to some concert recently and couldn't get tickets. I'm trying to pull strings everywhere to buy tickets. Don't bother the family with your trivial matters."

Then "click", the call ended.

I forced a bitter smile. As expected, even my cancer surgery couldn't compare to my sister's desire to attend a concert.

What was I hoping for? After all these years, I'm still so pathetic.

I dragged my exhausted body home, collapsed on the bed, and recalled the bits and pieces of all these years. Tears soaked my pillow.

I grew up in a single-parent family. My father died in a car accident early on, and my mother raised my sister and me. Life was tough.

I felt sorry for my mother and was always the most sensible child in the family. But sensible children aren't loved; it's the crying children who get the candy.

My mother could never treat us equally. I was the family's beggar, while my sister was the little princess.

All these years, I struggled, but I was still suffocated more and more by the shackles of so-called family affection.

As I cried, I lost consciousness, seemingly having a beautiful dream where my father was still alive...

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying in the hospital with an IV drip. Beside me was my best friend, Yolanda. Seeing me awake, she burst into tears: "You scared me to death, Penny! You had a fever all night. The next day, you didn't go to work or call in sick. Your colleagues called you, but you didn't answer. They went to your house and found you unconscious, so they rushed you to the hospital."

Then, with a trace of reluctance in her eyes, she continued, "Your colleagues called your mom and sister. They said..." She paused, "They said as long as you're not dead, it's fine, and then hung up. They couldn't be reached after that, so they had to contact me based on your contact list."

I gave a bitter smile. My mother and sister were as consistent as ever.

I told Yolanda about my stomach cancer and the need for surgery. She hugged me sympathetically, cursing my mother and sister for being inhuman!

I shook my head. Forget it. After so many years, I'm used to it.

I stayed in the hospital for two more days. Feeling better, I set a surgery date with the doctor and planned to pay the fees.

But when I went to the payment window, I was shocked to find that my bank card linked to PayPal had a zero balance!

This was impossible. I clearly had $60,000 in that card.

I rushed home, but as soon as I arrived, I was dumbfounded. The house looked like it had been robbed, turned upside down. The bank card I kept in the drawer was gone, and even the little cash I had was swept clean.