Chapter 1

The moment I wrote the last word, the door was kicked open from the outside.

Mom stood at the threshold, looking at me coldly. "What are you doing here?"

I instinctively closed the tin box. "Nothing."

She didn't buy it for a second. She strode over, snatched the tin from my hands, and dumped all the birthday cards inside onto the floor.

18 colorful cards scattered around her feet. Mom casually picked one up.

It was one I had written when I was seven. "Mom cried for three hours today. From now on, when Dad picks me up from school, I'll get out at the entrance to the neighborhood so Mom won't see me."

After reading it, her expression hardened. "Why did you write these? Are you planning to show them to other people so everyone will know I'm a terrible mother?"

I hurriedly shook my head. "I wasn't going to show anyone."

"In that case, why are you keeping them?" She lifted her foot and stepped on the cards, grinding them under her shoe. "I knew you were calculating, Danica Langston! You pretend to be sensible on the surface, but behind my back, you write down everything I've ever said."

I crouched down to pick the cards back up.

Mom booted the tin box aside. "Hands off! These cards are all evidence you're collecting to use against me, aren't they?"

I was shoved so hard by her that I tumbled backward onto the floor.

Grandma rushed in when she heard the commotion. She bent down and flipped through the cards. "Evelyn's right. Who in their right mind would keep track of ancient history from 18 years ago? It's obvious that she loathes you!"

I couldn't help but retort, "I don't loathe her."

There wasn't a single line of accusation on those cards. I was simply keeping track of my wishes every year.

I wished Mom would cry a little less. I wished she would take her medication on time. I wished that one day, she would be willing to call me by my nickname.

Unfortunately, no one cared to listen.

Grandma seized my arm. "Drop the act! Your mother was finally having a good day, and yet you hide in your room writing this depressing crap. Do you have to drive her to death before you're satisfied?"

Mom looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. "Didn't you agree to move out? Pack your belongings right now!"

I was caught off guard. "Right now?"

"You heard me."

"But tomorrow's the last day to submit my college preferences. My ID and documents are still in Dad's study. Can I leave after I submit them?"

Mom burst into laughter. "You want to attend college?"

The very next second, she yanked open my desk drawer and pulled out the college preference forms I had printed. "You've made my life miserable for 18 years, and now you think you can merrily go to a college in another city? Why do you think you deserve that?"

I charged at her to snatch it back. Yet, right in front of my eyes, she tore the form in half.

Mom went through all three documents before scattering the shreds of paper all over the floor. I went rigid.

I had spent two whole months researching these schools. Riverdale Teachers College, my first choice, was the college I had dreamed of attending since middle school.

Mom hurled the last piece of paper in my face. "I almost died on the operating table when I brought you into this world. How dare you use the life I nearly lost to go to college, celebrate your birthday, and build a future for yourself? If you had half a heart, you'd stay here and take care of me. But all you ever think about is how to get away from me!"

At last, I snapped. "What on earth do you want from me? Do you want me to stay, or do you want me gone for good?"

The room fell silent.

Mom stared at me, her lips trembling slightly.

In a heartbeat, she grabbed the box cutter from my desk and pressed it against her wrist. "So I'm a burden to you now? Fine! I'll kill myself right now. Once I'm dead, no one will stop you from going to whatever college you want!"

Dad and Grandpa barged into the room at the sound of the commotion.

Dad snatched the box cutter away and pulled Mom into a tight embrace.

Grandpa raised his hand and slapped me across the face. "How dare you talk to your mother like that?"

My cheek instantly burned.

Mom curled up in Dad's arms, sobbing so hard that her whole body trembled.

Dad comforted her while looking at me in disappointment. "Danica, you know very well how fragile your mother is. Why do you insist on talking back to her?"

I gazed at him. "She tore up my college preference form."

"The form can be printed again. But if something happens to your mom, how are you going to make up for that?"

So, my future could simply be printed again. Yet, every tear Mom shed had to be paid for with my life.

Grandma pulled a household separation agreement out of her bag and tossed it in front of me. "Sign it and move out tonight."

I didn't take it.

Mom's sobs came to a sudden halt. Her gaze was ice-cold as she peered over Dad's shoulder at me. "What, are you not willing to sign it? You claim you want me to get better, but when you're actually asked to do something for me, you can't bring yourself to do it?"

I lowered my head to look at the agreement.

"Danica, you've been responsible for my illness for 18 years. You don't actually think that just because you're an adult, you can just walk away scot-free, do you?" she jeered.