Seeing me resist her for the first time in my life, Mom froze.

A second later, rage flooded her face:

"You ungrateful wretch! You lose all that money and you dare defy me?"

"Your sister worked herself to death at the company today! Get over here and massage her back!"

My sister watched me with a smug expression, waiting for me to obey Mom like I always did and serve her like a good little attendant.

But I didn't move.

I just looked at Mom calmly and said in a flat voice:

"Mom, drop the act."

"I heard everything."

A flicker of guilt passed through Mom's eyes. Then she decided to stop pretending altogether:

"So what if you heard?"

"Good. I'm tired of putting on a show for you anyway."

"I raised you this long—that's more than enough. I've already transferred this house to your sister. Even when it gets demolished, the compensation money won't have your name on it. So don't go getting any ideas."

I found it almost laughable. I couldn't help asking:

"Is that really what you think of me?"

Growing up, I'd pinched every penny until it screamed. Never bought so much as a piece of candy. After school, I'd rush home to help Mom with chores, trying to lighten her load.

After I started working, I scrimped even harder—never splurged on so much as a bubble tea. The moment my paycheck hit, I'd transfer every cent to her account.

I couldn't fathom why she'd think I'd scheme to get my hands on this demolition payout.

Mom let out a derisive laugh, arms crossed, looking at me sideways.

"Are you saying you're not?"

"All these years, you've been so meek and eager to please. You think I don't see it? You knew I was sick, thought I'd be easy to manipulate. Playing the perfect daughter to squeeze whatever you could out of me."

"You've been calculating since you were a child, always putting on that filial act. Not like your sister—she's simple, genuine, no hidden agenda. Her devotion is real."

Her words hit me like ice water straight to the chest.

So that's how she saw it. My devotion was performance. My sacrifices were manipulation.

While my sister's laziness and entitlement were just... innocence. And her half-hearted "how are you" texts whenever she needed money? Apparently that counted as heartfelt love.

Of course. To someone who doesn't love you, everything you do is wrong.

I didn't bother explaining anymore. Just took a deep breath and kept my voice flat.