Chapter 3

Over the next few days, I worked like a wound-up toy. The moment I opened my eyes, I was cleaning.

Meanwhile, my fever kept roaring back.

My body was breaking down. Every violent coughing fit ended with blood in my spit.

But I never dared let them see.

I was terrified they would call me "dramatic" and double my chores again.

So I worked through the pain.

Even when my hands cracked and bled from the freezing water, I didn't dare stop.

Finally, on a quiet afternoon.

I used the excuse of taking out the trash to slip away. Clutching the $120 I had secretly saved over the years by collecting and recycling plastic bottles, I walked to the nearest hospital.

That money was supposed to buy me a tiny birthday cupcake one day.

I didn't need a cupcake anymore.

The doctor stared at my test results, his brows knitted tightly.

He looked at me, hesitating. "Sweetheart, where are your parents?"

"They are... very busy."

I tried to calm my racing heart and forced a small smile. "Doctor, you can just tell me. How much time do I have left?"

The doctor froze.

But I wasn't surprised. I had been diagnosed with a terminal illness a month ago during a school screening.

But no one at home ever listened to me.

They didn't care if I was sick or healthy.

"Child, if we admit you for treatment right now, there might still be a sliver of hope..." the doctor said, his voice trembling slightly.

I shook my head and cut him off. "Just tell me the final timeline, please."

The doctor choked up. After a long pause, he sighed deeply. "One month. At most."

"Your bone marrow has stopped producing healthy blood cells. On top of that, you are severely malnourished. Some of your organs are failing before they've even fully developed."

I sat there, dazed.

"One month..."

I let out a bitter, silent laugh, looking down at my scarred, calloused hands.

One month. That was enough.

It was enough time to pay back everything I owed them.

"I won't be doing the treatment."

I placed the stack of crumpled dollar bills on his desk. "Sir, is this enough to buy pain medication? I just want it to hurt less when I go."

The doctor fell silent again.

I saw his eyes turn red.

Eventually, he turned his back to me, his shoulders shaking slightly.

He only took $5 for the consultation fee but handed me a large bottle of strong pain relievers.

I felt a sudden swell of happiness.

So, I didn't have to work myself to death to receive a little bit of kindness.

When I got home, the mansion was incredibly lively.

Today was Lily Rose’s birthday party.

My parents had transformed the house into a pink wonderland. Balloons and fresh roses were everywhere. The price of a single rose bouquet could have fed me for a month.

Lily sat in the center of the sofa like a real princess, wearing that designer dress worth tens of thousands of dollars.

Helen was gently guiding her hand to cut the cake, her face glowing with maternal love.

"Our Lily is so beautiful. Come on, make a wish, sweetie!"

Arthur stood nearby, recording the whole thing with a high-end camera.

The adoration in their eyes was something I had never seen in my entire life.

Suddenly, a sharp, stabbing pain flared in my stomach.

It was so intense that I doubled over.

Struggling to stay upright, I slowly dragged my feet into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water.

"What are you doing? Sneaking around like a thief!" Helen’s sharp voice suddenly pierced the air.