She ground her teeth. I walked away, tears of relief streaming down my face.
“It took me twenty years to cut this umbilical
cord.”
- 20.
The day they signed the note, they transferred
the house to Sarah.
“See? No tricks. It’s all Sarah’s now.” They
thought they’d won. They were walking into a
trap. My trap.
Sarah’s “love” was expensive. She didn’t want
Jake to “work,” so she took out payday loans.
Easy money. Spent just as easily. Clothes,
makeup, fancy dinners. Basking in the glow of
being called “Mrs. Jake.”
Jake wrapped his arm around her.
“There’s only one Mrs. Jake. Anyone
disrespects her, I’ll break their legs.”
Sarah, on top of the world. Until the interest
piled up. The house was her lifeline. I played
both sides. Now they’d both be left with
nothing. They’d never give me a penny anyway.
Valerie got me a cupcake with a single candle.
“Congratulations. Happy rebirth day.”
“From now on, this is your birthday.”
The tears I’d held back for so long finally
flowed. I was free. It only took twenty years and
six months.
They were busy. I could focus on my exams. Sarah, oblivious, came to gloat.
- 21.
“You’re so stupid. Kicking yourself out. Heard you might get into a second–tier college? Congrats. The old hag would be so proud.”
I put on my headphones, ignored her. She got louder.
“Why are you hiding? Ashamed?”
“Lucky me, I’m ‘depressed.’ So they have to
take care of me.”
I smirked.
“And who are you taking care of? Jake?”
She gave me a pitying look.
“So lame. You wouldn’t understand. It’s called
love. Sharing. Sacrifice.”
I nodded.
<
“Do your parents know you ‘shared‘ their house
with your ‘love‘? Do they approve of your
‘sacrifice‘?”
Her face hardened.
“They’ll come around. Unlike you, trash. You’ll
always be kicked out. Disowned.”
“Don’t forget to delete the video after graduation.”
She bumped into me, walked away. I saw it. The tiny bump under her shirt. Oh, she had her own little piece of “trash” to worry about. I knew their plan. After I deleted the video, Jake would “teach me a lesson.” The van to the mountains
was already booked. The same nightmare, all over again.
Not this time.
The mountain creep, now going by Frank,
showed up in town. Looking for Jake. “You’re living the high life, while I’m stuck in
that shithole, freezing my ass off, no one to
warm my bed. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
“My son gets to have fun, and I suffer? No.”
I’d recognized the birthmark behind Jake’s ear.
<
Sarah didn’t have the brains or the resources to
send me to the mountains. This was Jake’s
doing. Frank wasn’t going anywhere. He’d taken
a liking to Sarah. Not by accident. Sarah,
encouraged by Jake’s “friends,” had gotten a
rose tattoo on her chest. Frank’s obsession.
Last time, he’d carved roses into my skin, a
sick tribute to his obsession. This time, Sarah
would wear the roses.
Frank, high on meth, was pawing at Sarah’s
tattoo when Jake walked in. A fight erupted.
Frank, enraged, stabbed Jake. The police burst
- in. Chaos. Blood. My nightmares, hauled away.
I’d called the cops. The other skeleton in the
pigpen, Frank’s wife. Jake’s mother. Sold to
Frank, imprisoned, driven mad. She’d attacked
him with a kitchen knife, and he beat her to
death. Jake had watched. Said nothing. Even
joined in the curses.
“She deserved it! Trying to abandon her family!
Women should be loyal! Even unto death!”
Stabbed, betrayed, Jake turned on his father.
Frank went to jail. Jake, a possible accomplice,
<
was under investigation. He was too busy to
bother with me. I studied. Harder than ever.
- 22.
Graduation. Valerie, accepted to Stanford, went home. The dorm was empty. She left me her
notes, her practice tests.
“I finished these in sophomore year. You might find them useful.”
Her figure, surrounded by drivers and nannies,
receded into the distance. I opened the
notebook. A message on the inside cover:
Break free. You’re almost there. Life is worth it.
You are worth it.
Tears welled. I tackled another practice test.
Graduation day. Moms in floral dresses, dads
with banners and bouquets. I clutched
Grandma’s card.
“Grandma, you’re all I need.”
I walked into the auditorium. This time, my fate
was my own.
Two grueling days. The last word written, I
stumbled out, collapsed on my dorm bed. The
tests were easier than I’d expected. Second-
く
tier college, no problem. Maybe even first–tier.
Half the weight was gone. The other half…
Sarah. They owed me. This life, the last. Time
to collect.
- 23.
“Hello, police? I want to report a theft. My
grandmother’s jewelry is missing…”
The police searched our house. The security
footage from Dad’s study came to light.
Surprise! They should be thrilled. My parents
handed over Grandma’s jewelry, then stormed
over to Sarah’s apartment. Sarah, pregnant, lay
on the couch, feeding Jake grapes.
“Relax. I’m their only daughter. The house is
mine. I’m an adult. I can do what I want.”
“Besides, babies are expensive. Ten grand isn’t
much. They make decent money. They can give
us a thousand a month. We’ll be fine.”
Jake kissed her.
“You’re the best, babe.”
“But will they give us the money?”
Sarah scoffed.
“Of course. I’ll just have another ‘episode.’ It
always works.”
“They can work their asses off for us. We’ll just
live our best lives.”
Mom threw open the door. Her face, a mask of
shock.
“You…monster! You played us! For this…loser!
You’re killing me!”
Dad’s eyes were red.
“You’re a disgrace! Pregnant at seventeen!
With a bastard! You should be ashamed!”
Sarah shrugged.
“Disgrace? You were barely older when you had
Ashley. Who’s the disgrace now?”
“At least I’m doing this for love. Giving my baby
a home. Unlike you. You abandoned her. You’re
not even real parents.”
“You treated her worse than a stray dog.
Slapping her, making her kneel. She was your
slave.”
My parents lunged at her. Sarah fought back. A
shove, a stumble. Sarah hit the coffee table.
Blood. Jake flipped. Grabbed a chair, smashed
it over Dad’s head. The ambulance was stuck in
<
traffic. Sarah lost the baby. Her uterus. Dad, a vegetable. Mom, in a fit of rage, posted the study video to the family group chat. Sarah, their perfect angel, a laughingstock.
Sarah, devastated, confronted Mom. A fight on the hospital stairs. An accident? Or intentional? Mom fell, cracked her skull. Sarah panicked, ran to Jake. They fled to Myanmar. To “make their fortune.” Two years later, I saw the news. A
mutilated female body, organs harvested.
Sarah. Her limbs had been removed, sold. Two years of living hell. Jake, no longer useful,
encased in concrete. Karma.
- 24.
Mom contacted me. Paralyzed. Lost everything. The house, her daughter, her husband. Now she
wanted me. To drop out of college, take care of
her. Be her nurse. Pay her bills. Internet vultures
camped outside my dorm, ready to tear me
apart. But I had the promissory note. And my
teachers, my classmates. They had my back.
The wave of outrage crashed and receded,
leaving Mom alone in her basement apartment.
く
She finally apologized. Begged to see me. I
didn’t go.
I read another news article.
Billionaire’s son arrested for drug possession,
loses inheritance.
Valerie had gone home, played the game, then
struck. A jailed son was no longer an heir. She
was the only one left. The lonely girl, staring at
the sky, now owned it all.
I found out later Mom fell trying to get out of
bed. Hit her head. Died alone. Our story ended
the day I signed her death certificate.
I stood at her grave, a smile on my face.
“There are no coincidences. Just…carefully laid
plans. Enjoy your family reunion.”
Six months later, I visited Valerie at Stanford.
She had long hair now, elegant, radiating
power. She hugged me, handed me a thick
notebook. She beamed.
“Congratulations.”
“Work hard. I’ll be waiting in California.”
“Even a life without obstacles isn’t easy.
There’s still the struggle to climb higher.”
“I know you can do it.”
Tucked inside the notebook, a receipt for a
Steinway grand piano.
“Never stop chasing your dreams. It’s never too
late.”
No, it wasn’t. One step forward, a thousand
more to go. Life, struggle, dreams. No regrets.
