Chapter 4

I carefully placed the paper box containing Mom's ashes and her photo on the cabinet.

Then I walked slowly toward Mason.

I took the pen and signed, without hesitation.

Out of the corner of his eye, he was eyeing me up and down.

I felt nothing but disgust and weariness.

After I signed, he scoffed and tossed a bank card onto the floor.

"Your money's all in there, untouched," he said. "Consider these two years a gift from me. I misjudged you."

I looked back at him, really looked at him.

I remembered just a few days ago, when Mom was critically ill, she'd whispered that she wanted to see Mason, to know we were okay.

He'd already lost patience with me after I'd begged him for money, but for Mom, I swallowed my pride and called him.

It took a whole night to get through, and when he finally picked up, I was met with a torrent of mockery.

"Calling for money again?" he said. "What's the excuse this time?"

I suppressed my anger and whispered, "Mom's not doing well. Could you... just come see her once, let her know we're okay? That's all."

Suddenly, a loud laugh erupted on the other end.

"Wow, your storytelling has really improved," he said. "You think I'll pity you, believe you, and transfer you money now? I'm not a fan of this act. Go practice some more. Next time, come up with something more touching, and maybe I'll actually fall for it."

The call was disconnected.

When I tried to call back, he'd blocked my number.

He never came, not even when Mom passed away.

I couldn't forget the last words Mom said to me.

She said, "When you have a baby, I won't be able to help you during your postpartum period. That's a crucial time for a woman, and I wanted to tell him to treat you well."

"Couples need to understand each other," she said. "He's a good boy. You two should live a good life together."

Until her last moment, Mom wanted Mason and me to stay together.

But Mom didn't know that the day after I begged Mason for money, he dragged me to a forced abortion.

He said he wouldn't be threatened by a child and wanted to crush any hopes I had.

Right after the abortion, I had no time to rest.

Hounded by hospital bills, I worked non-stop odd jobs, day and night.

What was he doing then?

Partying it up every night with other women?

Or venting to his buddies about how I'd supposedly 'schemed' against him?

I couldn't even feel angry anymore, only sad and ridiculous.

I picked up the card.

It held the money Mom had saved her entire life--it was hers, and I needed to get it back.

As I picked up the card, Mason let out a disdainful scoff, clearly sneering at my actions.

I ignored him, secured the card, and started packing.

Half a million dollars--enough to buy Mom a proper urn and a decent burial plot.

The thought brought a familiar pang of sadness to my nose, and my eyes welled up.

I'd never been one to cry easily.

I hadn't cried while caring for Mom, or even after she passed.

Until now, I'd always thought that if I just tried harder, maybe everything would turn around.

But the pain had only been delayed.

Only now was the reality of Mom's absence slowly sinking in.

Tears slowly streamed down my face, and my hands trembled uncontrollably as I packed.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Mason went to open the door, and I looked over.

The person was familiar--it was Sarah, the car salesperson from the dealership, the 'little white flower' who'd driven away in the new car.

I saw her smile at Mason.

"Mason, I was worried she might get desperate and pull something crazy," she said. "Cornered poor people can be terrifying, you know. Is the agreement signed? I'm here to take you home."

Mason's gaze instantly softened.