Chapter 1

During the summer of my sophomore year in college, my 58-year-old mom decided to undergo IVF treatment.

She said she wanted to give me a little brother, someone I could rely on in the future.

After I convinced her not to go through with it, my parents and my cousin became godparents to my little cousin, bought him a house and a car, but refused to spend a dime on me when I was critically ill in the ICU.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the Thanksgiving Family Dinner.

This time, I smiled and said, "Whatever you and Dad think is best."

I woke up and realized I had returned to that Thanksgiving Family Dinner.

Uncle Thomas, mouth full of food, was still going on about his outdated ideas. “I’m telling you, a man’s gotta have a son! No matter how good daughters are, they’re not going to be the ones carrying on your name, right?”

He kept talking, saying that now the laws had relaxed, and with how advanced medical science had become, IVF was a great way to ensure a son and secure their legacy for old age.

Most of the relatives thought he was joking.

They tried to dissuade him. “You’re 65 now, Thomas. Your daughter has her own family and career. You’ll be holding grandkids soon enough, so why chase after all this drama?”

Uncle Thomas stood his ground. “Grandkids? They don’t even have my last name! If I don’t have a son, the Cross family line ends with me!”

My dad looked tempted. “You’ve got a point, but are you and Linda even still able to have kids at your age?”

Uncle Thomas replied confidently, “I’ve done my research. The IVF technology today is incredible. Not only can you still have a kid, but you can make sure it’s a son!”

Then he turned to me. “Hannah, wouldn’t it be great if your parents gave you a little brother? You wouldn’t have to worry about not having family to look out for you!”

He had asked me the same thing in my previous life.

I looked at my father, who was starting to get excited, and patiently explained. Older women face a higher risk of pregnancy complications like high blood pressure and gestational diabetes.

Not to mention, as age increases, the quality of eggs and sperm deteriorates, making it more likely that the fertilized egg will have chromosomal abnormalities.

Even if they managed to conceive, the baby would have a higher chance of being born prematurely or developing issues like cerebral palsy or neurological disorders.

Dad stayed silent.

Mom, who looked a little nervous, tugged on his sleeve and shook her head.

With my reasoning, they let go of the idea of pursuing IVF.

But Uncle Thomas? He was determined.

Two years later, he proudly showed off his big baby boy, born through IVF, at the family reunion, grinning ear to ear as relatives congratulated him.

“Little brother, don’t worry! Now that I’ve got a son, the Cross family won’t die out. Be good to your nephew, and maybe when he’s older, he’ll take care of you too!”

He laughed, slapping my dad on the shoulder, completely ignoring the dark look that spread across my father’s face.

From that day, Dad began subtly blaming me. He said I was selfish, afraid that having a brother would mean sharing the inheritance, so I convinced him not to have one.

Mom, too, resented me, saying I’d scared her with all that talk about the risks of having kids at her age, pointing out how Uncle Thomas and Aunt Linda’s son was perfectly healthy.

They couldn’t comprehend the concept of probability. All I could do was silently endure their criticism.

I thought that in time, my actions would prove to them that it didn’t matter whether they had a son or daughter.

But what I didn’t expect was for them to start frequenting the hospital, trying to have a son just like Uncle Thomas.

After numerous rounds of hormone treatments and egg retrieval attempts, they finally had to face the truth: Mom’s eggs were no longer viable.

I thought that was the end of it.

But then, I was in a car accident, left critically injured in the ICU, waiting for them to pay for the life-saving treatment. That’s when I found out the truth.

They had made my three-year-old cousin, Nathan, their godson, using all their savings to buy him a house near Cedar Hills Elementary School.

They didn’t pay a single cent towards my medical bills.

Not even a visit.

In my last phone call with them, their cold, heartless words became the final straw that broke me.

“Stop calling us so much. We’re busy dropping off your little brother at daycare!”

“You’re practically dead already. Don’t waste our money—we need it for Nathan!”

So, they had abandoned me.

Thinking of all this, I turned to Uncle Thomas with a smile and said, “You’ve lived long enough to know best, Uncle Thomas. Of course, Mom and Dad should make the decision.”

He was pleased with my response and patted Dad’s shoulder, laughing. “Hannah is much more sensible than my daughter. How about this—we brothers can both go for another kid, and maybe I can even get the hospital to give us a discount!”

Well, let’s see how that ‘precious son’ of yours takes care of you in your old age this time.