6

Paul stood frozen as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. He blinked in disbelief and stammered, "What... what did you just say?"

Kate rolled her eyes, trying to piece together a shaky explanation. "The... the exorcist said that if I made a donation, it would bring us good luck and wealth. I thought I was only sending 10 thousand dollars, but somehow, when I entered the card number and password, it all vanished! I can't even reach the exorcist anymore!"

Paul's face twisted in rage as he roared, "That's a scam, you idiot! Three hundred thousand dollars! Do you have any idea how long I've been saving for my retirement? It's all gone!"

I couldn't help but chuckle and quote their usual back-and-forth, "Come on, it's just a bit of money. Mom was just trying to do something good for the family. What's the big deal? Besides, if you had kept better track of your money, no one could've stolen it in the first place. It's your own fault for being so careless!"

Paul completely lost it, turning on his wife with a fury I'd never seen before. "I'm going to knock you out, you money-draining fool! Where's my cash?!"

He started slapping Kate across the face, kicking her in the stomach. She cried out in pain, wincing with every blow.

I watched their chaotic scene unfold, feeling no sympathy. They had brought this on themselves!

When Tom walked in, he was greeted by the sight of his parents, disheveled and sobbing on the floor.

"What the hell happened here? Why are you both crying?"

Paul pointed an accusatory finger at Kate. "Ask your mother! She let some con artist take all our money! I've worked my fingers to the bone for my retirement, and now it's all gone!"

After digesting the whole mess, Tom stood in silence for a moment before stepping forward to help his parents up. "It's okay, Dad. I just landed a huge deal worth millions. If we lost the money, it's not the end of the world. You'll still have a good life with me."

Slowly, Paul's despair began to lift, and his expression softened just a bit.

Then Tom turned to me. "Mr. Vandross finally gave me a shot, and I want to throw a party to celebrate. I'm counting on you to help me organize it!"

"I've got a job to do! I won't have time for all that!"

I had a quick idea and pulled Kate in front of me. "Let Mom handle it! She's been around long enough to know how to throw a party. It'll be a good way for her to redeem herself!"

Kate opened her mouth to argue, but when she heard my last line, she swallowed her words and nodded firmly. "Trust me, son. I'll make sure it's perfect!"

Tom thought for a moment before finally agreeing. He said, "Alright, Mom, you're in charge! Book the best hotel, and spare no expense. Mr. Vandross is bringing his kid, so remember—no mangoes! The kid is allergic. Here's 50 thousand to start, and if you need more, just let me know!"

7

Paul quickly shook off the frustration of losing his retirement savings, especially with the prospect of his son becoming a wealthy boss.

Every day, he pulled Tom aside to dream about their future life of luxury.

"Dad, just sit back and enjoy the good life with me! Once I hit it big, not only will I make up for that thirty grand, but I'll have you living in a big mansion and cruising around in a fancy car." Tom boasted, picking at his teeth after dinner.

Paul's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Well, in that case, I'll be riding your coattails!"

Both father and son were brimming with hope, but I knew Kate wouldn't let them down.

Finally, the day arrived for the dinner with Ryan Vandross.

Kate took them to a charming countryside farmhouse surrounded by nature—muddy paths, open air, and a yard full of geese and rabbits frolicking about.

Tom's face fell as he pulled Kate aside. "I gave you 50 thousand to book the best hotel! What is this place?"

But to Ryan's delight, the change of scenery was refreshing. After indulging in gourmet meals for so long, he appreciated the simplicity of the rustic setting. Plus, his daughter Sara Vandross was having a blast playing with the animals in the yard.

Tom, realizing the situation wasn't as dire as he thought, forced a smile and scratched his head. "Well, as long as you're happy, Mr. Vandross."

As the meal progressed, Kate brought out a peach dessert, and when Sara ate in excitement, Kate couldn't resist saying, "See? You can actually eat mangoes! The jam on top is mango, but I mashed it up so you wouldn't even notice!"

In an instant, Sara's face went pale, and her spoon clattered to the ground. She gasped, clutching her throat, struggling to breathe as her face turned red and blotchy.

Ryan shot up from his seat, nearly knocking over his chair, and shouted Sara's name, rushing to her aid.

Tom froze in panic, grabbing Kate's arm and asking, "How could you give Mr. Vandross' daughter mangoes? I told you a million times she's allergic! She can't eat that!"

Kate pouted, looking hurt. "But mangoes are delicious! I made it into jam—it tastes great!"

Tom was on the verge of losing it. "Mr. Vandross' daughter is allergic! Allergic! She could die! Are you not understanding me?"

As Ryan rushed Mia into the ambulance, Tom sprinted after him. "Wait, Mr. Vandross! What about our contract..."

Ryan, furious, turned and slapped Tom hard across the face. "My daughter is in danger, and you're worried about a contract? What are you, a monster?

"I warned you over and over about her allergies! And your mother still gave her mangoes! If anything happens to my daughter, I swear to god I'm gonna tear you apart, piece by piece!"

Tom sat there, utterly stunned, as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

8

After Ryan stormed off, Tom went completely berserk.

He smashed plates and kicked over chairs, his frustration spilling out like a shaken soda can.

He turned on Kate, who was cowering in the corner. "Do you have any idea how powerful Mr. Vandross is? He's not someone I can mess with! I finally got a connection with him, and now I've ruined it all without even making a dime!

"Are you my mother? Why can't you understand simple instructions? Do you want to get me killed? I'm done for!"

Tears streamed down Tom's face as he tugged at his hair, his eyes wide with panic.

I crossed my arms, watching the chaos unfold with a smirk. "Seriously, Tom, watch how you talk to your mom. She raised you, you know. So what if the deal went south? If you were half the man you claim to be, you'd figure out a way to bounce back."

Kate, encouraged by my words, straightened her back and retorted, "Exactly! If you're not capable, don't blame me! You were the one who asked me to help!"

Tom had no response to that, and in a fit of rage, he turned on me. "And you! You're just as clueless! What the hell are you even doing here?"

His words ignited a fire in me. I marched right up to him, grabbed a nearby chair, and swung it hard against his head. "Call me clueless? I've had it with your nonsense!"

Kate stood frozen, wide-eyed, as I landed several blows. Blood trickled down Tom's forehead, and I could see his eyes glaze over. Satisfied that he was too dazed to fight back, I climbed on top of him, slapping his face repeatedly.

"Called me stupid? You and your whole family have been living in my house, bullying me, and you've put my daughter's life at risk! I swear I'll kill you!"

Tom was beaten bloody by me, his face a mask of crimson. Kate tried to pull me back, but with a single menacing glance, I froze her in her tracks.

As I stood up, Tom, still reeling and weak, spewed. "You... you're insane! I'm gonna kill you!"

I responded with a swift kick, driving the heel of my high heel straight into his face, opening a gushing wound.

Unbeknownst to him, my parents had agreed to my divorce. Through recent events, they saw that this family lacked integrity and were all in support of my decision. Plus, my income was now stable.

"You think you can still control me? I'm filing for divorce!"

After giving Tom his due, I boarded the bus back to the city, then called a moving company to my place.

Paul was still lounging on the sofa, glued to the TV. Seeing my disheveled state, he sneered. "Well, well, look at you! Couldn't be because my son struck it rich and kicked you to the curb, could it?"

9

"Old man, shut your filthy mouth and get the hell out of my house!" I barked.

Paul roared back, "What did you just say? I'll get my son to beat you to death!"

He lunged at me with a vase, but the movers behind me intercepted him, shoving him out the door.

I directed them to pack up all of Tom's family's belongings and dump them near the community trash area.

If Tom's family didn't pick them up, it would be convenient for the garbage collectors.

As soon as Tom, bandaged and head still aching, returned to the community, Paul, trembling with rage, rushed up to tattle.

"This venomous woman threw me out, she tossed our things in the trash! Son, you've got money now. Buy me a house, right here in the community, a villa. Let her envy the hell out of me."

Tom, already in agony from his injuries, snapped, "Buy what? My business is kaput, you know that? And you expect me to buy you a villa? Can't you think about cutting me some slack instead of bleeding me dry?

"Tomorrow, go apply for a job sweeping the streets. You've got legs, don't dump all the weight on me."

Paul was stunned into silence, his mouth agape, unable to respond, his mind replaying Tom's words. "You... you haven't made big bucks?"

Tom's frustration only worsened his headache. "That's right! It's over for Mom, and for you too. If you hadn't messed up the pension, I wouldn't be in this mess!"

But Ryan's retribution didn't stop there. Word had it that Sara had ingested an excessive amount of an allergen and survived but was left with lifelong issues.

So Ryan aimed to cut off not only Tom's finances but also his very livelihood. Ryan hired a gang to follow Tom wherever he went, disrupting every job he sought. No income, no living.

Tom fought with the gang and was gravely injured and hospitalized. Since he initiated the fight, he got little compensation.

Eventually, Tom fell into a pit of smoking, drinking, and depression and was soon diagnosed with stomach cancer.

When I visited him, he was ranting about Kate's poor care.

He was a wretched sight, hair almost all gone, bloated from drinking and smoking, his face pocked with oily acne. Once a decent-looking middle-aged man, he was now a pathetic shadow.

Meanwhile, since leaving the jerk, my life had visibly improved. I had money, took care of myself, slimmed down, wore exquisite makeup, and adorned myself with beautiful jewelry.

With the stark contrast, his eyes narrowed with envy, staring at me in silence.

He muttered bitterly, "You think you'll have a good life without me? I'll always be Mia's father. No matter what, she's got to support me. Once I'm better, I'm sticking to you for life. You'll never shake me off."

10

I scoffed, saying, "Let's see if you can even make it that long!"

He shouted back, "The doctor said I have an 80% chance of recovery! I will be just fine!"

As Kate walked in, carrying a plate piled high with greasy fish and meat, I couldn't help but think, "Sure, a simple stomach cancer might be treatable, but if there are people actively sabotaging your recovery, that's a whole different ball game."

I strolled out, the sound of things crashing to the floor echoing behind me.

A few months later, I got the news: Tom was dead.

He had died on the operating table due to a pre-surgery snack. Apparently, he had eaten something before the procedure, which caused food to reflux after the anesthesia kicked in, leading to a blockage in his airway and, ultimately, suffocation.

Karma!

I heard that Paul had caused a scene at the hospital, trying to pin the blame on the staff in a desperate attempt to extort money. But after an investigation, it turned out that it was Kate who had given Tom food before the surgery.

The community turned against Paul, disgusted by his antics. "So he was just trying to scam the hospital, huh?"

"Unbelievable! The doctors warned him a thousand times not to eat before surgery, and she still fed him. It's infuriating! This kind of old fool just doesn't listen, and now he's trying to blame everyone else for her own stupidity. Pathetic."

With his scam falling flat, Paul ended up in a public shouting match with Kate.

These two were a piece of work. No money, no house, and now no son, yet they kept insisting my daughter was their granddaughter, claiming I had some sort of obligation to support them.

I had no idea where they got such twisted logic, and I wasn't about to entertain them. I had security escort them out.

But they didn't stop there. They began stalking my daughter. The kindergarten teacher reported seeing an elderly couple lurking outside the school gate whenever it was time for Mia to be picked up.

After reviewing the surveillance footage, I recognized them instantly—Paul and Kate. I didn't care what they did to me, but if they dared to touch my daughter, I'd go to war.

I hired two extra babysitters to ensure Mia was safe after school, but then, one day, disaster struck.

One of the babysitters rushed in, panic written all over her face. "I was watching Mia on the slide, and she dropped her toy ball. She went to get it, but when I turned around, she was gone!"

My vision blurred, and I felt faint. The babysitter quickly steadied me, and I roared, "Check the cameras! I want every resource mobilized to find my daughter!"

Unfortunately, Mia had wandered into a blind spot on the cameras. After combing through countless feeds, we finally spotted a suspicious figure at a street corner. I recognized them immediately—Paul and Kate.

Of course! They were Mia's grandparents, and she wouldn't suspect a thing. If they called her, she'd probably just follow them without a second thought, no crying or fussing.

In the footage, they were holding a slightly older child—dressed in black with green pants and orange shoes. The details didn't match Mia exactly, but my gut told me that it was her. I had heard stories of kidnappers who would change a child's appearance to throw off parents.

11

Once I confirmed it was Mia, the police sprang into action and managed to intercept Paul and Kate's car.

I held my daughter close, tears streaming down my face as I cried uncontrollably.

Later, the officers informed me that among the suspects they apprehended, besides Paul and Kate, were several wanted criminals with multiple charges of child trafficking. I felt a wave of relief wash over me; if I hadn't acted quickly, Mia might have been taken out of state, and I could have lost her forever.

Just thinking about that made my heart race with fear.

During the trial, no matter how much Paul and Kate begged for leniency, I stood my ground. They were old, yes, and technically, they hadn't succeeded in their plan—after all, they only tried to take Mia without any solid evidence of intent to sell her.

They insisted they just wanted to spend some time with their granddaughter and that it was pure coincidence they ended up in the same car as those criminals.

In the end, they received a light sentence.

But I was left reeling. The emotional toll had pushed me into a deep depression. I found myself unable to function, my mind racing with anxiety and dread.

In my past life, Mia had died in front of me, and now she had been drugged and abducted by her own grandparents. I kept asking myself, "Why does all this misfortune have to fall on her tiny shoulders? What did she do to deserve this? Why can't it be me instead? I'd take it all for her!"

I was consumed by fear that something terrible would happen to her again. I was terrified of every little thing—a flower pot falling from a window, anything that could take her away from me.

I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't send her to school. I knew I was being irrational, but I couldn't help it.

I ended up quitting my job; thankfully, my parents were there to support me, standing as my strongest ally.

As the relentless torment in my mind continued, I finally reached a breaking point.

I gathered all the money I had, borrowed from anyone who would lend me a dime, and managed to scrape together a hefty sum.

I found a way to connect with some hardened criminals in the same prison as Paul and Kate—people with murder charges on their records. I wanted to eliminate every threat to my daughter's safety.

Staring at the phone number in my hand, I hesitated. I knew that once I dialed, there would be no turning back.

Just as my finger hovered over the call button, Belinda grabbed my hand, tears in her eyes. "You can't do this! What will happen to me if you go through with it?

"I understand my pain. If you're gone, I can't bear the thought of losing my daughter.

"We wouldn't let you face this alone. We're family! We'll tackle this together, okay? Let's move away, to a place where no one can find us. We can start fresh!"

I broke down in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

That June, we packed our bags and immigrated abroad, ready to start anew.

In our new home, there was no sign of Paul, Kate, or Tom. My parents bought a lovely house with a big yard, planting flowers and trees to create a peaceful sanctuary. They even got a couple of kittens and puppies to make the place feel warm and welcoming.

My parents stepped back from their business to focus entirely on me and Mia.

They even hired a bodyguard to ensure Mia's safety, which helped lift some of the weight off my shoulders.

Gradually, my depression began to lift.

The following year, I received shocking news: Paul and Kate had both died of a brain hemorrhage while in prison due to their old age.

I immediately booked a flight back home.

12

Watching the lifeless bodies of these two, I scrutinized them, repeatedly confirming in my heart that they were indeed gone, feeling the deep-seated fears and worries within me vanishing one by one.

I thought my illness had healed.

With no descendants and no relatives to take over, as the former wife of their son, I took on the task of handling their remains.

Those deep-rooted hatreds that once tormented me so much, those times I wished for death, faded along with their demise.

I did nothing more to their bodies.

After cremation, I also prayed for them in the church.

Because I wanted to let go, to reconcile, and to step out of the pain.

I wanted to live up to those who loved me and those whom I loved, to be a good daughter, a good mother, and a better version of myself.

Letting go of hatred enabled the embrace of love, to love others, to love oneself, to love everything.

I raised my hand towards the sun, looking through my fingers at the sunlight filtering through.

Finally, everything could be let go.

Mia, embracing the warm sunlight, stumbled and frolicked on the grass. My mother blew bubbles nearby, amusing Mia, while my father clapped and chased after Mia, joining in the fun.

Everything was so beautiful. I turned around and ran towards them, towards love.