**【My father-in-law likes grouper. Buy a big one. My mother-in-law loves fish maw chicken soup—get the high-quality yellow croaker maw, the kind you made during my postpartum confinement. Patrick and Savannah want hairy crabs and abalone. Just buy whatever looks good, ten pieces or so should be fine.】**
My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white.
A short, incredulous laugh escaped me.
500 bucks?
That wouldn't even cover the abalones—let alone the premium fish maw.
Years of me subsidizing their lives with my own money had spoiled her rotten. She had completely lost touch with reality—firewood, rice, oil, and salt didn't come free.
I untied my apron and tossed it onto the counter.
Done.
I was *done*.
As I grabbed my phone to leave, my thumb grazed the screen—accidentally accepting the transfer.
I froze.
Before I could send it back, Jade's voice messages flooded the family group chat.
"Mom, you really are a retired accountant—you *sure* know how to calculate."
The sarcasm dripped like venom. "I transfer the grocery money, and you accept it instantly without a word. You're not *nearly* as generous as my mother-in-law. She sends New Year's gift money to me and Savannah every year."
To twist the knife deeper, she posted two screenshots: one of me accepting her measly 500 bucks, and another of a 1,000-buck transfer from her in-laws labeled "New Year's Gift."
The group chat—previously buzzing with holiday greetings—fell dead silent.
Jade wasn't finished.
Another voice note. A light, mocking laugh.
"I'm just joking, Mom. You're not *actually* mad, are you?"
A pause.
"But I'm not wrong. For the past seven years, all of Savannah's gift money has come from her grandpa and grandma on Patrick's side. You? You're just... *stingy*."
Stingy.
The word echoed in my skull, stoking the fire in my chest until it roared.
My *entire* monthly pension of 5,000 bucks went into their mortgage and Savannah's tutoring classes.
My husband *did* send money for our granddaughter—but Jade always intercepted it. She claimed the child was too young, that easy money would spoil her. She insisted she would "save it for Savannah."
And now?
Now she weaponized that very logic to stab me in the heart.
Seven years of labor. Seven years of funding their lifestyle.
And I was worth *less* than the in-laws who showed up once a year with sweet words and superficial gestures.