Chapter 3

It had been barely two weeks since the financial aid fiasco when Mom found another excuse to make my life difficult. This time, she demanded that I surrender the prize money I had won in a writing competition.

She sat there on her fancy ergonomic leather couch, sipping coffee from a designer mug, shooting me a look that reeked of pure disdain.

At the very least, she had learned from her previous mistake. Instead of confronting me in front of the class, she had summoned me here in private.

I took in her silk pajamas, faded almost white from endless washing, and smiled back at her with the same contempt she was throwing at me.

She set her mug aside.

"Well? Have you thought about it?"

"I have," I said, meeting her gaze. "And the answer is still no."

She scoffed.

"What's the big deal? It's less than 400 dollars. Wouldn't it be smarter to use it to buy yourself some goodwill with your classmates?"

She shook her head, pretending to be disappointed.

"You're just like your useless father—neither of you has any business sense."

I let out a cold laugh.

"Funny. I didn't realize business sense meant ditching your husband and kid to warm a rich man's bed."

Mom's expression darkened.

Before I could blink, she hurled her steaming coffee right into my face. The burn was instant, and I couldn't stop the grimace that twisted across my features.

As I writhed in pain, she smiled as though she had just claimed a victory.

"Anne, don't you ever forget—I gave birth to you. No matter what I've done, you don't get to judge me."

I clenched my teeth and shot her a glare.

She withdrew her hand with an exaggerated elegance and sneered, "Such poor manners."

Poor manners?

I never had a mother to teach me otherwise.

I took a breath, fighting down the anger that was boiling inside me.

"Who are you giving my money to?"

I saw a flash of satisfaction in Mom's eyes.

For a moment, I wanted to break down.

In my previous life, I had given away everything that was mine, hoping for just one kind word from her, and that desperate hope had led me to my death.

How could I ever forgive her?

Mom smiled faintly.

"Anne, you don't need to worry about the rest. Just leave everything to me… Now, go and change your clothes in the guest room."

I pulled away before her hand could reach me.

I took out the money I had prepared in advance and placed it on the coffee table before her. Then I walked out without looking back, ignoring the anger that flared across her face.

I knew exactly what she intended to do with that money. She was going to use it to buy Myra's favor.

But this time, I had other plans.

I reached into my pocket and stopped the recording that had been running the whole time.

Then I pulled out my phone and made a call.

As soon as the line connected, I let my voice break, pretending to be on the verge of tears.

"Mr. Robinson... Ms. Taylor came to see me today..."