Chapter 2

Outside, the wind was so biting it felt like it could cut right through my skin. I pulled my coat tighter and walked step by step toward my home.

The house was not far from where I lived.

Not long after my brother Patrick got married, Mom came to me with tears in her eyes. She told me Patrick's wife did not like her and did not want to live with her.

I knew all about Patrick. He did not have a job and was always lounging around. He and his wife rented a small place in a part of town with lots of old buildings and cheap rent. They lived off Mom's retirement money.

Hearing Mom cry made me really sad, so I offered her a deal.

"How about you move in with me? I'll give you some money every month to help out, and maybe you can cook for me now and then."

I had even picked out a room for her when I bought my house.

However, Patrick had made a fuss back then. He said I just wanted Mom's money and would not let her move in with me. I did not think much of it at the time, but with everything going on then, I thought she would take me up on my offer. However, she just could not decide and finally said no.

"It wouldn't be right for me to live with you, a young person. Maybe you could buy me my own place? Then I wouldn't have to worry when I get older, and I'd feel more settled."

I was shocked and did not know what to say, but then Mom started crying again. "Sheila, ever since you were little, you've always been the one who gets it. Please, help me out just this once."

I thought about my savings and, even though it was a lot to ask, I said yes. Before long, I bought a small house with two bedrooms and a living room.

Mom was over the moon when she moved in. Her face was all lit up, and she kept saying what a good daughter I was.

However, not too long after that, Patrick's wife got pregnant. On that day, Patrick and his whole family moved into the house I had paid for in full.

Mom was thrilled, greeting them at the door with open arms. Nobody mentioned how Patrick's wife had once looked down on her.

They ended up living there for five whole years.

I let out a puff of cold air, and only after I stepped inside did the icy chill start to fade from my bones.

I sat on the balcony in the dark, not bothering with the lights.

I pulled out my phone and, in the shadows, terminated the special bank card I had given Mom.

She had come to me crying one day, saying Patrick had taken her pension and she had no money left, so I set up the card for her.

From then on, all her spending came from that card. I would peek at the charges sometimes. The cheap stuff was always just basic things we needed every day.

However, the pricey things? I could tell they were all for Patrick and his family.

I closed my eyes and pulled out the title deed that had been untouched for five years from my drawer, then found the real estate agent's number from when I first bought the place.

[I need this house to sell fast, and it's okay if the price is a little low.]

Maybe because it was New Year's Eve, his reply was slow, but he did reply.

[Hey, isn't this the house I sold you back then? You're selling it already? Selling a house right before New Year's? You're full of surprises.]

Even though he was teasing me, he was serious about his job.

[Don't worry, I've got this. It's a great property, and since you're okay with a lower price, I bet it'll be snapped up the moment it hits the market.]

I just sent back a message acknowledging it and gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows into the night. Bright fireworks shot up into the night sky. Under the dark sky, a burst of colorful fireworks suddenly lit up, making even the dark rooms in the house bright.

I looked at the clock and saw that it was past midnight. It was a new year. Watching the fireworks, I felt happier than I ever had before. The fireworks kept going, lighting up the sky as if they were showing us the way for the year ahead.

I smiled, went back to my room, and snuggled into my cozy bed.

In my dreams, I saw Mom protecting little me and Patrick from my dad, who was angry and waving his fists. I saw her wake up late at night to fix the blanket I had kicked off, making sure I was warm. However, I then saw Patrick taking my treats and allowance, hiding behind Mom and smirking at me.

I saw Mom cry and make a show in front of me, just to take away from me to give to Patrick. She always looked at me with blame and told me what to do.

"Sheila, that's your brother, you can't fight with him."

"Sheila, that's your brother, you're supposed to do this."

...

I woke up to a bright morning, the sun shining on the snow until it sparkled. My phone on the nightstand was ringing like crazy.

I looked at it and answered. Mom's worried voice came through.

"Sheila, the card you gave me isn't working. Is it out of money? Put some in quickly. I need to buy things for your brother."

I answered without any fuss, "It's not that I'm out of money. I just don't want to give it to you anymore."

I had held onto her small acts of kindness for so many years. However, this year, those three slaps finally woke me up.