Chapter 2

When I opened my eyes again, the world had gone quiet.

I floated above the room and watched as my body was carried away, leaving behind a glaring pool of crimson.

I felt strangely hollow, yet also lighter, as though an enormous weight had finally been lifted from my shoulders.

I wanted to go home. I was afraid that my parents would be devastated by my death. Even as a ghost, I wanted to stay with them a little longer.

The moment the thought entered my mind, I found myself somewhere both unknown and familiar.

It was not the mold-infested basement we called home. It was the sprawling riverfront apartment downtown where I had lived ten years ago.

Sunlight streamed through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling across the expensive leather sofa.

The air carried the subtle fragrance of Dad’s favorite designer candle, an extravagant indulgence that cost hundreds of dollars.

Three people were sitting on the sofa.

My mother, supposedly ravaged by terminal cancer, was now the picture of health as she calmly sipped tea from a delicate porcelain cup.

My father, supposedly so depressed that he wanted to end his life, was leisurely reading the financial section of the newspaper.

Between them sat a little girl who seemed to be about ten years old.

The girl was dressed head to toe in designer clothes and clutching the latest handheld gaming console.

She said, “Dad, this level is so hard! Beat it for me!”

Dad set down his newspaper and affectionately stroked her hair. His eyes were brimming with adoration. “Oh, you’re the smartest girl in the world.

“Give it another try. I know you can do it. If you still cannot beat it, have your mom buy you some better gear.”

Mom burst out laughing. “Of course I will! You can have any gear you want. No daughter of the Lawson family should ever be stuck with basic equipment.”

I hovered there, paralyzed, as though those words had petrified my soul.

Was I imagining this?

Over the past ten years, I watched Mom writhe in agony countless times with her cold sweat soaking through the sheets. I watched Dad stare blankly at a bottle of sleeping pills before breaking down in despair.

To pay for their treatment, I worked three jobs a day and survived on three hours of sleep. To save money, I ate customers’ leftovers and filled my stomach with water whenever I was hungry.

My hands became raw and infected from hauling bricks, while years of carrying heavy loads left my knees permanently damaged.

I had even allowed my leukemia to progress to its final stage because I could not bring myself to spend money on treatment.

Yet here they were, perfectly healthy.

They were living in a kind of luxury I had never even allowed myself to dream of.

“Honey,” Dad said suddenly, almost offhandedly, “Bruno seems to have lost an awful lot of weight lately.”

At the mention of my name, Mom’s smile faded. She gave a dismissive scoff. “Losing a little weight won’t hurt him. He was too spoiled before. The slightest bit of chore had him complaining that he was tired.

“Young men need to experience some hardship. We’re only doing this for his own good.”

Mom set down her teacup and continued in an earnest tone. “Think about what he was like ten years ago. He expected everyone to wait on him hand and foot, and he spent money as though it were endless.

“If we had handed him the family business back then, he would’ve run it into the ground in three years. Look at him today, though.

“Over the past decade, he has learned to live frugally, endure hardship, and make sacrifices for his family. That proves that our approach worked.”

Dad sighed. He appeared troubled for a moment, but his misgivings were quickly replaced by self-congratulation.

“Exactly. If we hadn’t pretended to be broke and sick, he never would’ve become this responsible.

“Now, he sends us his paycheck every month without fail, and he won’t even buy himself a new pair of shoes. He has finally grown up and learned to put his parents first.”

“It is just...” Dad glanced at Penelope, who was still engrossed in her game. “Penelope is ten. How much longer are we going to keep this from him?

“Won’t Bruno be furious when he finds out that we have been lying to him for the past ten years?”

Mom frowned. She sounded utterly convinced that they had done nothing wrong as she said, “Wasn’t that the whole reason we did this? We knew he’d be upset about Penelope.

“We doted on him his entire life, and he never learned to share. When Penelope was born, we were afraid he would resent having to share everything with her.

“That was why we put him through all this, to toughen him up.

“Surely, after all these years, he has learned his lesson. He should be past fighting Penelope over what belongs to whom.

“It is impossible to treat two children exactly the same. I just hope he understands that we did all of this with his best interests at heart.”