As Dad and Zach stepped out, the front door opened.
A middle-aged woman emerged.
Elegantly dressed. Every gesture polished, refined.
I stared at the rich lady.
That was my mother.
She wore an easy, happy smile. Warm and natural, she reached up to straighten Zach's collar.
"Chloe, add a squirrel mandarin fish. Zach loves it."
"He got into such a prestigious university—we have to celebrate properly."
Her voice carried clearly. Every word sliced through me.
The three of them walked inside, chatting and laughing.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw the spacious living room. A crystal chandelier. A dining table loaded with exquisite dishes.
They sat down. Raised their glasses. Laughed.
"Zach, you're incredible—worthy of being Mom's good son."
"Getting into such a competitive school! Tell me, what reward do you want? I'll agree to anything."
Dad's laughter followed.
"I told you our Zach would make it. You've made us so proud."
"How about this—before school starts, I'll get you a sports car."
"Pick whatever brand you want—don't you dare try to save us money!"
I stared blankly at the family portrait in the dining room, emotions tangled into knots.
It hit me then: I was the expendable one.
From childhood to adulthood. From being sensible to being obedient. Silently walking every path they'd designed after faking poverty.
Making me an outcast as a kid, too scared to speak up.
Making me hide my illness as an adult, too scared to burden them.
Making me choose death over dragging them down.
So all of it was just... an act they'd constructed on purpose.
And for what? To temper me?
Dinner ended.
Mom picked up her phone and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. She pressed the voice-message button, a faint trace of happiness still lingering on her face.
"Ellie, I'm guessing you're still busy—you haven't seen the voice message I sent."
"It's nothing urgent. I just wanted to let you know."
"Your dad and I are at Lakeside Manor, Building 3. Whenever you get off work, just come straight here."
I watched her quietly and tugged a bitter smile from the corner of my mouth.
I wanted so badly to tell her: Mom, I can never come back.
I sat on the massive crystal chandelier in the living room, silently watching from above.
After dinner, my parents and Zachary were still chatting. The fruit on the table had been replaced twice. The black tea had been refilled more times than I could count.