Chapter 3

Rowan's POV

On the third day after checking into the hospice, I began sorting through my belongings. Calling them belongings was an exaggeration, though. There wasn't much to sort through. I had spent seven years working, but I had never even bought myself a single decent thing.

My nurse, Sophia Langford, brought me three metal boxes. The first was filled with years' worth of pay slips and bank transfer records.

At 13, I had washed dishes at a restaurant, earning 230 dollars a month. At 14, I had hauled bricks during the day and unloaded trucks at night. That was the first time I had managed to scrape together enough money for Dad's dialysis.

At 15, I had worked until I developed gastric bleeding. When I woke up, the first thing I asked was whether my absence that day would count as skipping work.

I had given my parents a total of 187 thousand dollars. Every last cent went to them.

The second box contained Dad's dialysis bills, surgical records, and debt agreements from all those years. Every last one of them was fake. I placed my own lung cancer diagnosis on top. Among all those forged medical records, it was the only one that was real.

The third box held the gifts I had prepared for my parents. For Dad, it was a digital watch that cost six dollars. He used to complain that there was no clock in the dialysis room, so he never knew how much longer he had to endure each session.

For Mom, it was a discounted scarf. She had lied to me, saying she swept the streets before dawn and that the winter cold left her hands too stiff to straighten them.

Sophia's eyes filled with tears as she asked, "They lied to you. Why are you still keeping all this?"

I touched the scarf. "The gifts are real. So is my wish for them to have a better life."

The night before my birthday, I coughed up a large amount of blood. My blood oxygen levels kept dropping, and the doctor rushed me into the emergency room.

…

Third-Person POV

Sophia found Zander's number in my bank transfer records and called him over a dozen times.

At that moment, he was in the company's conference room, making arrangements for the heir's banquet the next day. When the call finally connected, Sophia said urgently, "Is this Rowan Emerson's father? He's being resuscitated right now. We need a family member to come to the hospital and sign the consent forms!"

Zander was silent for two seconds. Then, he asked, "Are you an actress he hired?"

Sophia froze. "This is a hospital! He has late-stage lung cancer, and he's in critical condition!"

However, Zander cut her off. "Tell him there's a limit to how far he can take this fake illness. For just two hundred dollars, he's gone from pretending to have cancer to faking a medical emergency. He's quite the actor. Tell him to show up at his birthday banquet and apologize by noon tomorrow. Or else, he is no longer a part of the Emerson family."

Then, the call was disconnected.

…

Rowan's POV

I could faintly hear Dad's voice. With great difficulty, I pulled off my oxygen mask and asked, "What did he say?"

Sophia's eyes welled up with tears, but she didn't answer.

Yet, I still laughed, "Did he tell me to stop my act?"

When I briefly regained consciousness, I handed her the three metal boxes. "If I don't wake up tomorrow, could you please deliver these to this address at noon?"

It was the hotel where Dad had arranged my birthday banquet. Then I signed the organ donation form. By the time my pen reached the final stroke of my name, I had no strength left.

Sophia steadied my hand, her tears falling onto the paper.

I looked at my signature and whispered, "Maybe it's for the best. I never left them anything while I was alive. At least in death, I can still leave something behind for someone else."

…

Third-Person POV

On Rowan's birthday, the Emerson family had booked out the most luxurious hotel in the city. At the center of the banquet hall lay the keys to a luxury car, the property deed to a villa, and a share transfer agreement for Emerson Group.

Across the giant screen, the words read, "Welcome home, the sole heir to the Emerson Group!"

At exactly noon, Zander walked onto the stage with a wine glass in hand. "To raise Rowan, I kept our family's wealth a secret and let him grow up in poverty. The facts have proved that my approach was correct. He's loyal, hardworking, and responsible. He's my proudest achievement."

Applause filled the hall. Yet, Morgana kept glancing toward the entrance. By 12:30 pm, Rowan still hadn't shown up. She asked anxiously, "Could something have happened to Rowan?"

Zander's expression hardened. "He just wants us to worry. Once he finds out all of this belongs to him, he'll come running faster than anyone."

Just then, the banquet hall doors swung open. Sophia walked in, carrying three metal boxes. "Who is Rowan Emerson's family?"