Just a Factory Worker Who Builds Rockets
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Summary
My wealthy family could hear every thought in my head.
On my first day home, they sent their adopted son a forty-thousand-dollar allowance. Me? They sent thirty bucks.
I grumbled to myself, 'Is this a joke? Thirty dollars? I make more than that tightening bolts at the plant.'
They looked down their noses at me, sneering, waiting for me to come crawling to them. Then they heard what I thought next.
'A top Healy City family's monthly allowance for both its sons adds up to a measly 40,030 dollars? That wouldn't even buy a square yard of insulation.
