Riches in Ruins

When I got home, I dumped all the food on the table into the trash.

A while ago, I never would’ve done that.

Growing up, I always knew money was tight. My parents saved every penny, saying they were doing it all for me. I even wore hand-me-downs and rarely had anything new.

Every season, Mom would bring home a big bag of old clothes, saying, “These are from one of my coworkers’ daughters. They’ve been washed. There’s no need to waste money on new ones.”

I never knew exactly where those clothes came from. I just knew they were always the wrong size and made me stand out in the worst way. My classmates would laugh and call me a junkyard kid. So, I buried myself in schoolwork, thinking that one day, if I worked hard enough, I could buy clothes that actually fit.

Every holiday, I handed over money from working a part-time job to help lighten their burden. At least, that was what I thought I was doing. However, as it turned out, there was no burden.

I looked it up. That luxury car they were driving belonged to the city’s wealthiest family, the Halloways. I remembered seeing gossip news about their young heir driving that exact car around with a famous actress, and that guy I saw tonight was him.

So what did that make me? The daughter of a rich family!

I laughed to myself, wiped my nose, and went straight to my parents’ room.

Maybe they were careless or thought I was too dumb to find out. However, there were contract documents worth over a hundred million, signed in Dad’s name, and tucked between the pages was a Montblanc pen. At that moment, my last bit of hope vanished.

I put everything back the way it was and quietly went to my room. I pulled the covers over myself and wished I could wake up and realize it was all a bad dream.

The next morning, they were already up and bustling in the kitchen.

I sat down and stared at the breakfast on the table—seafood pasta. Who ate seafood pasta first thing in the morning?

I took one bite. It tasted exactly like the one we had at the professor’s dinner last month. I glanced at the trash by the door, and there it was, the packaging from that same expensive restaurant.

“Mom, did we hit the jackpot or something?”

She blinked in bewilderment as I stared at her. “What are you talking about, Suzie?”

I pointed toward the trash. “That seafood pasta is expensive. How’d we afford it?”

Her expression faltered.

However, Dad laughed it off. “That was from my boss. I worked late last night, and he packed me a portion. I couldn’t finish it, so I brought it home. You know how it is. Your mom and I can’t afford that kind of luxury.”

I nodded, smiled, and took another bite of the ninety-dollar pasta. The dinner they had last night probably cost thousands. If they were really poor, I might’ve found it delicious, but now it tasted like nothing.

I put down my spoon after two bites.

“I’m full.”

“You barely touched it. Are you feeling sick?” Mom asked, concerned. Her reaction seemed genuine.

I forced a bright smile. “Nope. We’re visiting Grandpa today, aren’t we? I need to save room for lunch.”

She looked relieved, and Dad looked guilty. Just as he was about to say something, his phone rang.

I glanced at the screen. It was labeled ‘My Sweet Boy Xander.’

If Xander Halloway was their real son, what about me?

Dad rushed to the balcony to take the call, and Mom followed him. I could just make out bits of their whispered conversation.

“Be careful.”

“Don’t let her find out.”

“Play along.”

My heart sank. It turned out they knew all along. They just hid it from me, together. I suddenly wondered if I was living in some twisted version of The Truman Show, but they were too real.

After the call, Dad handed me a present.

“Suzie, something came up at work. I’ve got to run.”

Mom assured me. “That’s alright. I’ll go with you to Grandpa’s.”

I nodded, pocketed the envelope, and followed her.

When we got to Grandpa’s place, he pulled me into a warm hug.

“Suzie! You’re here! Come in. It’s cold outside!”

His hands were smooth, too smooth for someone who supposedly worked a lifetime in a steel factory. The building we entered was for retired factory workers, and the story was always that Grandpa had been one of them. However, he didn’t look the part at all.

Grandma handed me a gift—an envelope filled with money, with a warm smile. “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

“Thank you, Grandma.” I took it and slipped it straight into my bag.

Mom blinked in surprise. Usually, I’d give her the money immediately. That was how it always was.

She used to say, “You’re such a good girl, Suzie.”

However, this time, even Grandma paused. Then, she chuckled. “It looks like Suzie’s learning to save her own money now.”

I smiled. “Mom said it’s okay to take sometimes, so I figured I’d treat myself to something this year.”

“She’s a good kid,” Mom said quickly. “She earns her own tuition and living expenses now.”

Yeah, right. I could guess how much was in that envelope—fifty bucks maybe? Compared to my tuition fees, what was fifty bucks?

They were filthy rich, and still, they squeezed every penny out of me. I didn’t get it. Why raise me like that? Why only me?

Grandma didn’t say anything else. She went into the kitchen to start cooking, and when the food came out, I barely took two bites before I lost my appetite. It was because they looked exactly like the dishes I saw in that five-star hotel last night.

It finally clicked. They were all in on it—Mom, Dad, Grandpa, Grandma. They were rich people playing poor.

After lunch, Mom got a call and made an excuse to leave. Seeing that Grandpa and Grandma looked sleepy, I took the hint and got ready to go, but instead of heading home, I hid nearby.

Sure enough, less than twenty minutes later, a stretch Lincoln pulled up. Surrounded by attendants, Grandpa and Grandma got in and didn’t even glance back.

I exhaled, slipped on a mask, and walked up to the building.

Cleaning ladies were sweeping up. One of them muttered, “They only show up here once a year, cook a meal, and then leave.”

“Yeah,” another added. “They pay a ton to have this place cleaned up for just a few hours. Word is, they’ve got a mansion in Southbridge. This is all just for show.”

Hearing that, I felt a chill down my spine.

Since the Halloways’ main estate was in Southbridge, I rode my bike there. The mansion was enormous, perched halfway up the hill, and guarded by security. Never in a million years would I have dreamed of being in a place like that.

As I approached, a guard barked, “Hey! You! Get lost!”

I froze. Then, just as I was turning to leave, a motorcycle roared past me. I recognized it instantly. It was worth over 300 thousand dollars, and on it was Xander, who saw me too.

He pulled to a stop and scanned me with a mocking smile. “Not bad. You figured it out.”

I was stunned. So he knew?

“Why?” I choked out. “Why would they do this? Am I adopted? Some kind of science project?”

He raised a finger and wagged it. “Nope. You’re blood. You’re a Halloway, but you see, I’m the heir. So what if you were born a minute before me? That’s not enough to challenge my position. You don’t belong here, Suzie. Get lost.”

He sneered. “Don’t look at me like that. Our parents raised you. That counts for something, right? Oh, and don’t bother going to Grandpa and Grandma anymore. They’re too old to keep pretending.”

With that, he revved the engine and disappeared through the gates. I stood there for a long time, staring at that mansion, and finally, it all made sense. So it was about inheritance and power.

However, I didn’t ask for this. All I ever wanted was a bit of real love from my parents. They lied to me, but the love they showed felt real, didn’t it?

I turned and walked away.

Before leaving, I called Dad.

“Dad, are you going to be home for dinner tonight?”

“I can’t, sweetheart. I need to work overtime. Triple pay over the holidays, remember?”

“Your mom’s working too.”

However, in the background, I heard the revving of the motorcycle.

I acknowledged softly before hanging up, knowing that was it.

Back home, I began packing while signing up for a three-year research program out west. It was remote and isolated, with no distractions, making it the perfect escape. Once I had packed, I printed out a photo of Xander I’d taken and left it on my nightstand.

That night, they didn’t come home, so I was alone again. I tried calling Dad one last time, but no one picked up.

Meanwhile, the Halloways handed out bonuses to their employees at Marvel Corp. Some people had even posted on social media about the company benefits they received, with the lowest valued at five hundred dollars.

There were photos of my parents on stage, with Mom in full makeup and Dad in a suit, holding a glass of wine, while Xander stood below them, surrounded by admirers.

They probably assumed I’d never see any of it—that I’d be too busy working my way through life to check the internet. However, I was just an ordinary girl raised in hardship. Of course, I see everything.

A reporter asked about their plans for the new year.

Dad beamed at the camera. “Our son, Xander, is turning twenty-two this year. We take a trip every year, and this one starts today.”

I froze. I, too, was twenty-two, and my furthest trip was a school field trip to the zoo.

I laughed bitterly, picked up my birth certificate, and traced a finger over it. They had stopped providing me with money as soon as I got into college, saying I was an adult now.

It was perfect timing, really.

I grabbed my bags and walked out the door without looking back.

Mom, Dad, goodbye forever.