The day I tore up my acceptance letter to a top university, my mom cried on the bed, and my brother cried outside the door. Ten years later, my brother returned from studying abroad with a gilded resume, a $500,000 annual salary, and a wealthy, beautiful girlfriend. I was still hunched over a sewing machine in a garment factory, my hands covered in needle pricks. Our old house was demolished, yielding a compensation of $6.23 million. My mom held my hand: "It's all yours, Chloe. Mom is so sorry for what she put you through." I fell to my knees: "Mom, give it to Noah. He needs money to get married." My mom slapped me and cried, "Mom isn't senile!" My brother's girlfriend pointed her finger at my nose: "What does a factory worker need all that money for? Let it collect dust in the bank?" My brother remained silent the entire time, his eyes darting away. My mom pulled a metal tin from under the bed, inside was a stack of yellowing papers: "This is your three years of high school tutoring fees. Your sister paid for it." "This is your four years of college living expenses. Your sister transferred it." "This is your first year's tuition for studying abroad. Your sister borrowed it." "Noah Davis, your sister put you through school for ten years, not so you could pay her back." "It's so you remember that your glamorous life was bought with your sister's torn-up acceptance letter." "Now, please get out." My mom stood in front of me like a mother wolf protecting her pup. 1. That year, I was eighteen. Clutching my acceptance letter to Parsons School of Design, I stood in the hospital corridor. The doctor said my dad couldn't be saved. My mom fainted from crying in the hospital room. My brother, Noah, was fifteen, curled up on a bench like an abandoned puppy. Relatives came in waves, leaving behind sighs and thin envelopes of cash. I heard them say: "Looks like Chloe won't be going to college after all." ... Three days later, we buried my dad. My mom lay in bed, unable to get up, saying she was overwhelmed with grief. We later found out her chronic kidney disease had worsened. Noah cried so hard he couldn't stand; I supported him the whole time. My aunt held my hand: "The garment factory is hiring. Room and board included, two thousand a month. If you want to go, I'll introduce you." I turned to look at Noah standing in the doorway. "Sis..." he called out, his voice impossibly hoarse. I went over and hugged him. He leaned on my shoulder, his tears soaking through my shirt. That night. I sat in front of my dad's memorial photo and tore my acceptance letter to pieces. The red fragments fell into the brazier, quickly curling, blackening, and turning to ash. My mom was crying in the inner room, her sobs heavily suppressed. The next day, I went to the employment agency and filled out a form. The staff asked what I could do. I said I could use a sewing machine. "Garment factory hiring, room and board included, two thousand a month, overtime extra. You in?" "I'm in." And just like that, I became a worker at the Eastside Garment Factory. I was eighteen that year, employee number 247. 2. Ten years. It's a light word, taking only a second to say. But for me, it was torment. The first three years were the hardest. My mom got sick, her chronic kidney disease turning into renal failure. She had to do dialysis twice a week, and every time, she looked like she had died and come back. Noah was in high school. Tuition, tutoring fees, living expenses—it was a bottomless pit. My dad's settlement money was like a pebble thrown into a river; a small splash, and then it was gone. During the day, I pedaled the sewing machine in the workshop. At night, I bussed tables at a night market food stall. I'd get home in the early hours of the morning, massage my mom's swollen legs, and check Noah's homework. In the fourth year, Noah got into college—a top university in San Francisco. Tuition was eight thousand a year, housing twelve hundred. I stayed up all night doing the math. In the end, I borrowed from coworkers and relatives, scrapping together enough for his first year's tuition. The day I sent Noah to the train station. He hugged me and wouldn't let go. "Sis, when I graduate, I'll definitely make sure you have a good life." I patted his back: "Just study hard, don't think about these things." The train pulled away. I stood on the platform, my eyes stinging. In the seventh year, Noah said he wanted to do an exchange year abroad. I asked over the phone: "How much?" Noah's voice was low: "Tuition and living expenses, about two hundred thousand. Sis, maybe we should just forget it." "Go. I'll figure out the money." I started borrowing again. Coworkers, relatives, neighbors... Eight people pitched in fifty thousand. It wasn't enough. Finally, I found a payday loan online. The interest rate was terrifying. My hand shook as I signed, but thinking of Noah's future, I signed it anyway. The tenth year, which is this year, I am twenty-eight. Ten years. I went from a blushing teenage girl to "Chloe," the fastest worker in the shop. My hands were covered in calluses, my knuckles chronically cracked, and I had lumbar muscle strain that made it impossible to stand straight on rainy days. I had never dated. Not because I didn't want to, but because I had neither the time nor the money. The older women at the factory had set me up a few times, but nothing ever came of it after the first meeting. They thought I had too much baggage—a sick mother and a brother still in school. I don't resent him. Really. When I saw the photos Noah sent. Seeing him looking so confident speaking at an academic conference. I felt it was worth it. Sometimes, biking through the empty streets late at night after work. I would think back to that summer when I was eighteen. Think back to that red acceptance letter. Think back to my homeroom teacher saying, "Chloe, you are the pride of our school." If I had gone to New York back then. What would my life be like now? I don't know. And I don't dare to imagine. 3. The news of the demolition spread this spring. The old neighborhood we lived in was slated for redevelopment. City officials went door-to-door, registering, measuring square footage, and assessing compensation. Our two-story house was originally assigned by my dad's workplace, and we later bought the property rights. Six hundred square feet. The day the assessment value came out. The city official came to our door personally. "Mrs. Davis, congratulations! The assessment is out, $6.23 million!" My mom was prepping vegetables, and her hand shook so much she dropped them all over the floor. "H-how much?" The official grinned from ear to ear: "$6.23 million! With your square footage and this prime location, that's the compensation amount!" I had to hold onto the doorframe to keep from collapsing. $6.23 million. At $4,200 a month, I'd have to work 140 years without eating or drinking to save that. The official left, and the house was terrifyingly quiet. My mom sat on her small stool, staring at the vegetables on the floor, not speaking for a long time. I called out softly: "Mom?" Her eyes were red: "Chloe, I've decided what to do with this money." I was bewildered: "Huh?" Every word she spoke seemed to take all her strength: "It's all yours. I'm not keeping a cent. It's all yours." My legs gave out, and I almost knelt on the floor. "Mom, what are you talking about! This money has to be saved for your retirement, and for Noah?" My mom suddenly raised her voice: "Noah can earn his own money! He's in San Francisco making tens of thousands a month! And you? You make four thousand a month and still have to pay off debts!" I was stunned. So Mom knew. She knew I had debts on the outside. I felt guilty and whispered: "Those debts... are almost paid off..." My mom stood up abruptly, swaying because she moved too fast. I quickly supported her. "So what if they are? You're twenty-eight! You've never dated, you're not married, you don't even have a decent piece of clothing! These past ten years, how much have you sacrificed for this family, for your brother? Mom knows in her heart!" She grabbed my hand: "This money, Mom insists on giving it to you! If you don't take it, Mom will donate it! Donate it to a charity school, no one else is getting it!" My eyes welled up with tears: "Mom!" My mom cried: "Don't try to persuade me! Chloe, Mom is so sorry. I dragged you down for ten years. Mom was useless, making you suffer so much. Now that we finally have some money, Mom just wants to compensate you. Just let Mom compensate you this once, okay?" I broke down in tears. Mother and daughter held each other, crying like two fools. That night. I called Noah. It rang for a long time before he answered. The background was loud, like a bar. "Sis? What's up so late?" His voice was a bit slurred, probably from drinking. "Noah, about the demolition money, the assessment is out." "Oh, that. Mom told me, over six million, right? Sis, don't worry, when I get the money, I'll give you a million. That's enough for you to buy a place in the county." My heart sank bit by bit. "Noah, Mom's intention is to give it all to me." The other end of the line went silent. After a few seconds. Noah laughed: "Sis, stop joking." "I'm not joking. Mom said it in front of the city official today." Noah's voice rose: "Has Mom gone senile? Give it all to you? Why?" "Mom said I suffered for ten years." Noah got agitated: "And what about me? Did I not suffer out here? Sis, do you know how much pressure I'm under in SF? Rent is eight thousand a month, food and socializing is another four or five thousand. Mia's family has high standards; the down payment for a marital home alone is three million. My five hundred thousand salary sounds like a lot, but after taxes, what's left? Saving two hundred thousand a year is considered good!" I gripped my phone, a sour feeling welling up in my heart. "Noah, Mom's health is getting worse. What about medical expenses?" Noah cut me off: "I'll pay for the medical expenses, but the demolition money must be split evenly! This is the house Dad left behind, I have a share too!" "Mom won't agree." Noah practically yelled: "Then persuade her! Sis, I remember how much you sacrificed for me! When I have money in the future, I will definitely compensate you! But right now, I really need this money! Whether Mia and I can get married depends on this house!" I closed my eyes and asked: "Noah, can I really not have this money?" Noah's voice softened, filled with pleading: "Sis! I'm begging you, okay? Talk to Mom. Split it evenly, or you take a bit more and just give me three million. Mia is pregnant; I need to give her a home!!!" I snapped my eyes open: "What? Pregnant?" "Yeah, two months. I haven't dared to tell the family yet. Sis, I really need this money, please." The call disconnected. I sat frozen for a long, long time. Pregnant. Noah was going to have a child. I was going to be an aunt. But why? Why couldn't I feel happy at all? 4. Noah and Mia arrived the following afternoon. Mia wore a tailored suit and carried a bag that looked very expensive. "Auntie, Sis, we're back." She placed a gift box on the table. "Auntie, I brought you some bird's nest, it's good for your health." My mom sat in her chair, nodded, and didn't say a word. The atmosphere was stiff. I poured tea, and the four of us sat around the dilapidated dining table. No one spoke first. Finally, Mia broke the silence: "Auntie, I heard the house is being demolished? Congratulations, your life will finally improve." My mom just hummed in acknowledgment. Mia said carefully: "Um, about the demolition, Noah and I discussed it, and we think it's best to split it evenly. We're family after all, harmony brings wealth." My mom looked straight at Mia: "Mia, you're a good girl, but this is Davis family business. You shouldn't interfere." Mia's face changed. Noah quickly chimed in: "Mom, Mia isn't an outsider. She's my fiancée, and she's carrying your grandchild!" My mom froze and looked at me. I lowered my head. My mom's voice trembled: "Pregnant?" Noah held Mia's hand: "Yes, two months along. So Mom, I really need this money urgently. Mia's family requires us to buy a house in SF, and the down payment is three million. My savings plus this money is just enough." My mom asked: "So you came back for money just to buy a house?" Noah choked on his words. "Mom, that's not what I meant..." My mom's voice suddenly turned fierce: "Then what do you mean? Your sister suffered for ten years to put you through school and study abroad! Now that you want to get married and buy a house, you want to take the money that belongs to her? Noah Davis, where is your conscience?!" Noah's face turned bright red: "How do I lack a conscience? I said, when I have money in the future, I will compensate her!" "In the future? When is 'in the future'? Your sister is twenty-eight this year! She gave the best ten years of her life to this family! What 'future' does she have?!" My mom started coughing violently. I quickly patted her back: "Mom, don't get worked up..." My mom grabbed my hand, tears streaming down her old face: "How can I not get worked up? Chloe, tell them right now, do you want this money or not?" Three pairs of eyes in the room stared at me. Noah's eyes held pleading. Mia's eyes held scrutiny. My mom's eyes held absolute resolve. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Noah looked at me, his eyes red: "Sis, since we were kids, you loved me the most. When I got into college, you were happier than anyone. When I left for the UK, you cried like a baby at the airport. Sis, I know you sacrificed a lot for me, and I remember it all. When I'm stable, I'll repay you properly, but right now, I really need this money." He was crying. My brother. The brother who used to trail behind me calling "Sis" was crying. My heart ached like it was being sliced by a knife. I knelt down, kneeling in front of my mom: "Mom, give this money to Noah, he needs it." My mom slapped me hard across the face. It wasn't heavy, but it was loud. I froze, and Noah and Mia froze too. My mom's voice shook: "Chloe Davis! Stand up right now!" I remained kneeling, unmoving. My mom practically roared: "Stand up!" I slowly stood up, my cheek burning. "These past ten years, how many times have you knelt for your brother? Begging the school for an extension on tuition, begging relatives to borrow money, begging the factory for an advance on your wages." My mom was shaking as she cried. "And now, you want to kneel for him again? Chloe Davis, are your knees really worth that little?!" I cried too: "Mom, he's my brother... he's having a baby... he needs money..." My mom pointed at my face: "He needs money, and you don't? Look at yourself! Twenty-eight years old, looking like you're thirty-eight! Your hands are covered in calluses, your back hurts so much you can't sleep at night! Can you think of yourself for once?! Just once!" I cried so hard I couldn't speak. Noah cried too: "Mom, Sis, stop arguing. I don't want the money anymore, I don't want it, okay?" Mia suddenly stood up and said coldly: "Auntie, I respect you as an elder, but your words are too harsh. Noah is your son. He wants to get married and have kids, he needs money to buy a house, is that wrong? Sister sacrificed a lot, but she did it willingly, Noah didn't force her. Using that for moral kidnapping now, is that interesting?" The room fell dead silent. My mom looked at Mia, looked at her for a long time, and then laughed. A desolate, sarcastic laugh. My mom muttered to herself: "Willingly... yes, she was willing... willing to give up college, willing to work in a factory, willing to support her brother... all willingly..." She raised her hand and pointed at the door: "Leave. I won't give a single cent of this money. If you want to sue, go sue. If you want to make a scene, go make a scene. I only have one thing to say: this money goes entirely to Chloe, and no one else is taking it." Noah wanted to say something else, but Mia pulled him back. Mia kept a cold face: "Auntie, I'll remember everything you said today. I hope you don't regret it later." They left. The door closed, leaving only me and my mom in the room. My mom collapsed into her chair as if all her strength had been drained. I walked over, squatted in front of her, and held her hand. Her hands were very cold and shaking. "Chloe, was Mom too cruel?" I shook my head, tears falling onto the back of her hand. She touched my face: "Mom just doesn't want you to suffer any more grievances. Did that slap hurt?" I shook my head: "It didn't hurt." My mom's tears fell: "Liar. Mom's biggest regret in this life is you. When your dad passed, he held my hand and said, 'Susan, our Chloe has potential, you must make sure she goes to college.' But Mom was useless, I couldn't afford it." "Mom, stop talking." "Let Mom finish. These past ten years, I dream of your dad every night. He asks me, 'Where's Chloe? Why isn't Chloe in college?' Mom can't answer. I have no face to answer." She sobbed uncontrollably: "Now that we finally have a chance, Mom wants to compensate you, wants you to have a better life, but you won't even give Mom this chance." I hugged my mom, and we cried together.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "394727", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel