Chapter 4

I opened the image and almost laughed out of anger.

They had just torn off a piece of scrap paper and scribbled a few lines: Applicant: Robert Miller. Amount: 20000. Purpose: Living expenses. There wasn’t even a proper reason.

I replied directly: “Rejected. Insufficient reason, sloppy handwriting. Resubmit.”

Five minutes later, Martha called again. “Ethan! Your dad has presbyopia, what’s wrong with his writing? We’re your birth parents, are you really trying to humiliate us?”

I said calmly, “Martha, aren’t you the ones who insist on rules the most? The approval system is what you taught me. I’m just putting what I learned into practice.”

Martha’s voice was so sharp it almost pierced my eardrums. She gritted her teeth. “Fine, fine, we’ll rewrite it!”

This time, they printed out a form, filled it in, and sent it over. Robert’s handwriting was indeed much neater:

Applicant: Robert Miller, Martha Miller. Amount: Twenty Thousand Dollars (exact). Purpose: 1. Daily living expenses: two thousand; 2. Brandon’s English enrichment class: eight thousand; 3. Brandon’s introductory programming class: seven thousand.

I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling slightly. Brandon, it was always Brandon. My sister’s son, their grandson.

He had been spoiled rotten by his grandparents since he was little.

A two-thousand-dollar helicopter ride? He just got to ride. An eight-thousand-dollar class? They didn't even bat an eye.

And my Leo, who just wanted to hear one more song on a two-dollar carousel, was beaten until he had a fractured sacrum.

I took a deep breath and typed on my phone: [Partially approved. Daily living expenses: two thousand, will be released as requested. Brandon-related expenses: fifteen thousand, rejected.]

Less than ten seconds after I sent the message, Sarah’s call came in. “What do you mean? Brandon’s tuition is due next week, and my salary is only three thousand! Where am I supposed to find the money to pay for his tuition?”

I didn’t respond.

Sarah’s voice grew louder. “You earn so much a month, what’s wrong with spending a little on your nephew? Are you saving it all for that useless son of yours?”

I clenched my phone, knuckles white. “Sarah, your monthly salary is three thousand, but Brandon’s single class costs eight thousand. I’ve checked the bank statements for the past three years. At least fifteen thousand dollars of my parents’ allowance was transferred to your account every month. I never made a fuss about any of that.”

“But things are different now.”

Sarah’s voice abruptly rose. “What’s different?”

I closed my eyes, as if seeing my son’s bloodied and bruised buttocks again. “I send twenty thousand dollars a month, supporting your whole family. But how did you treat my son?”

“Because of two dollars, Leo was in the hospital for half a month, unable to get out of bed!”

Silence on the other end for a few seconds, then Sarah roared, “Ethan, don’t forget, when you got divorced, who helped you take care of Leo? Robert and Martha may not have earned praise, but they certainly put in the hard work!”

“That’s why I give them twenty thousand dollars every month. Three years, a total of seven hundred and twenty thousand dollars. Sarah, you know exactly how much you took in those three years.”

“That’s Mom and Dad’s money!”

“It’s my money,” I said coldly.

Sarah angrily hung up the phone.

Half a month later, Leo recovered and was discharged from the hospital. Just as we reached the hospital lobby, Martha burst in, followed closely by Robert and Sarah.

The moment Martha saw me, her expression contorted. “Ethan! Are you trying to drive us to our deaths?!”

“Do you know what we’ve been through this past half-month? How could you be so heartless, only sending two thousand dollars? Are you treating us like beggars?!”

She tugged at my sleeve and slapped me hard across the face.

“Your sister is being hounded by the bank for her mortgage payments, and Brandon will be expelled if his tuition isn’t paid! You don’t care about any of this? Are you just going to save all your money for that worthless son of yours?”

The blow stung my face, but I didn’t budge an inch, shielding Leo tightly behind me.

“Martha, where are the application forms?”

“What?”

I looked up, meeting her gaze directly. “The mortgage application form, Brandon’s tuition application form. According to the rules, one by one, I’ll review them slowly.”

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