Chapter 5: Her Final Betrayal

Once I got Dad settled in the ward, I picked up his phone, ready to message his coworkers and friends to let them know and ask for leave. The phone felt heavier than usual. My fingers trembled as I unlocked it.

The phone felt heavy in my hand, the screen lighting up with notifications. I scrolled through, my mind half on the message I needed to send, half on everything that had happened. Then I saw it. My breath caught.

But as soon as I unlocked it, I froze. Dad’s phone was blowing up with notifications—large amounts of money being transferred out of his bank account. Altogether, over a hundred grand had been transferred out just that morning. My head spun.

My stomach dropped. I scrolled through the transactions, my hands shaking. There was only one person who had access to that kind of money. It had to be her.

Who else could it be but Mom? It was like a punch to the gut. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was grit my teeth and act fast.

I called the bank, told them Dad had just been in a car accident, the card was lost, and asked them to freeze the account. My voice shook, but the woman on the other end was all business.

The woman on the other end was calm and efficient, promising to lock down the account immediately. I thanked her, barely holding it together. I wanted to throw the phone across the room.

Soon after, Mom called Dad’s phone, furious. Her name flashed on the screen, and I knew what was coming. I braced myself. My heart thudded against my ribs.

“What’s going on? Why can’t I use your card? Did you do something?” Her voice was sharp, accusatory. She didn’t even ask about Dad—just the money. I bit my tongue, holding back everything I wanted to say.

Trying to keep my anger in check, I explained, “Mom, Dad was in a car accident and just came out of surgery. Because he wasn’t treated in time, his leg was affected. He might need a lot of money for surgery or rehab.” I tried to keep my tone even, but my hands were shaking. I waited, hoping for even a shred of concern from her.

“Why waste money on that?” Mom snapped. “He sits at a desk all day; he doesn’t even need his legs. Even if he’s paralyzed, it won’t affect the family. What’s the point of treatment?”

Her words were like ice water down my spine. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I wanted to scream. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt.

“Mom, do you remember he’s your husband? My father? We’re your real family!” I cried out in pain and anger. My voice cracked, raw with emotion. But she didn’t even flinch.

But Mom ignored me. “Can’t you be sensible? Mason has cancer! He could die! I finally found a psychic and a miracle cure that can save him. If you dare stop me, you’re a murderer!”

She was frantic, her words tumbling out in a rush. I could hear the desperation, but it wasn’t for us—it was for him. I felt like I was talking to a stranger.

On the other end, Mom kept accusing me. Her voice grew shriller, each accusation cutting deeper than the last. I felt like I was talking to a stranger. I pressed the phone tighter to my ear, knuckles white.

“A psychic? The one who can swap Dad’s life for his? What miracle cure? After all these years of medicine, you think some random fix will work?”

I tried to reason with her, but I knew it was useless. She was lost in her own world, chasing shadows and false hope. My words meant nothing.

Mom fell silent for a long time, then finally spoke again, her voice cold: “How do you know? Who told you? I have no choice. I’ve given my whole life to you and your dad. You owe Mason. Even if you both die for him, that’s what you deserve.”

Her words were like a knife twisting in my gut. I stared at the phone, unable to process what she’d just said. My vision blurred. My throat closed up.

“Mom, do you really consider me your son?”

I barely recognized my own voice. It was small, wounded, like a child’s. The silence on the other end stretched out, heavy as stone.

Another long silence. The seconds dragged. I waited, hope and dread warring inside me.

Finally, Mom said, “If I could, I wish I’d never given birth to you. I’m pregnant now—it’s Mason’s child. This is the child I truly want. Mason said his biggest regret was never having a child with me. I can’t let him die with regrets.”

Her words landed like a punch, knocking the air out of me. I stood there, phone pressed to my ear, feeling like the ground had dropped out from under me. All the hurt, all the anger, all the betrayal—it was all right there, laid bare in her voice. And for the first time, I realized I had to let go of the mother I thought I knew. She was never coming back.

This time, I wouldn’t let her take anything else from us.