Chapter 1

Mom wakes from a coma, but the nurse stops me at the ICU entrance because she has asked to see my younger sister.

I think Mom has just woken up and doesn't understand what's going on, so I quickly explain that I'm her older daughter and have been taking care of her these past few days.

The nurse tells me Mom already knows.

Mom was in a car accident a week ago.

The moment I got the call at work, I rushed to the hospital before I even had time to request leave.

I sign the paperwork, pay the bills, call in every favor I can, and find the best surgeon available.

For seven days, I don't go home once.

I sleep on a folding cot in the hallway when I'm exhausted, barely manage to eat, and repeatedly ask the doctors for updates on Mom's condition.

My younger sister only comes once, on the first day. She stays for less than ten minutes, then complains about the hospital smell and leaves.

Yet after Mom is finally out of danger, the person she wants to see most is still my sister.

I suppress my hurt and call her, but she impatiently tells me she's busy and will come another day.

With no other choice, I ask the nurse to speak to Mom again. I explain that my sister can't come right now and ask if Mom will let me visit first.

A few minutes later, the nurse returns.

Mom says that if the visitor isn't her younger daughter, she doesn't want to see anyone else.

Chapter 1

Claire's POV

The nurse gave me a sympathetic look before walking away.

I was still clutching the CT scans I'd just picked up, but suddenly, I couldn't remember why I'd come here in the first place.

The ICU allowed visitors only once a day, for 15 minutes.

Ever since I'd heard that Mom had regained consciousness, I'd been counting down the hours until I could see her. I'd barely slept all night.

It had never even crossed my mind that she might refuse to see me.

"Claire? What are you doing just standing here?" I turned around to find Dad approaching. He shoved a hospital bill into my hand.

"Your mom's expenses for today still haven't been paid. Go take care of it."

He paused. "Is she awake today?"

I nodded, my voice hoarse from lack of sleep. "Yeah. They're… allowing visitors today."

Dad's eyes widened. He immediately pulled out his phone. "What time? Why didn't you tell me sooner? I'll call your sister and have her come over right now."

The tightness in my throat, which had only been a slight rasp moments ago, suddenly became unbearable. I couldn't get another word out.

I closed my eyes for a second and forced myself to get my emotions under control.

"Why does Cathy need to come? She doesn't know anything about Mom's condition. I've been the one…"

Dad cut me off with a derisive laugh. "And what good has that done? You think spending 15 minutes in there is going to magically make you capable of coming up with a better treatment plan?

"Your mother was right about you. You always have an ulterior motive. She barely wakes up, and you're already rushing in to play the devoted daughter.

"This is a critical time for her recovery. Maybe think about what's actually best for her instead of making everything about yourself."

Every word hit like a bullet, tearing straight through my heart.

"Seeing your sister will make your mom happy. And being in a good mood will help her recover. What are you going in there for? To stand around and make awkward small talk? You'll probably just upset her.

"We've always let it slide when you felt the need to prove yourself. But seriously, Claire, there's a time and a place."

For a moment, I was so angry that it completely drowned out the hurt.

"Fine." I shoved the hospital bill back into his hand. "If I'm that useless, then I'm leaving."

I had barely turned around when Dad called after me, asking, "Where do you think you're going? I told you to pay the bill! Today's fees still haven't been taken care of!"

I stopped and looked back at him. "Dad, is that all I'm good for? Being your personal ATM? You just said seeing me would be bad for Mom's recovery.

"So, why is it that ever since I started earning money during my internship, you and Mom have always come to me whenever either of you got sick?

"A headache, a fever, a bad back… Whatever it was, I was the one who took you to the doctor. I was the one who paid the medical bills.

"So, I guess you can't blame me for getting the wrong idea. I actually thought I had a right to want to see my own mother.

"But since I'm apparently no use to either of you, call my sister next time something happens. Sounds like all Mom has to do is see her face and she'll make a miraculous recovery."

Dad's face flushed with anger. "You're our daughter! Of course you're supposed to spend money on your parents! And what's with that attitude? Enough with the sarcasm. Show some respect!"

I turned away without answering. Not because I was strong enough to let go. I was just afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would start crying.

Dad kept yelling after me, calling me selfish and immature, accusing me of throwing a tantrum at a time like this.

The elevator doors slid shut. The second they did, a tear slipped down my cheek and splashed onto the floor.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from my friend.

It read, "Claire, visiting hours should be over by now, right? How's your mom doing?"

Another message came through almost immediately. "Whatever happens, you've practically been living at that hospital for almost a week. You need to get some rest too.

I stared at those words and suddenly laughed.

Almost a week.

Even my friend knew how exhausted I was. Even she thought it was obvious that I should be the one to see Mom during her first ICU visit.

And yet, Dad had just accused me of having an ulterior motive and of trying to make myself look like the devoted daughter.

And Mom? She didn't even want to see me.

Ever since my internship, I'd been spending money on my family. New phone, new clothes… Whatever Mom and Dad wanted, I bought.

Once I started working full-time, the requests only got bigger. Gold jewelry, fishing rods that cost thousands, wellness products that ran into the tens of thousands of dollars…

I never said no.

When my sister, Cathy Brenner, decided she wanted to apply to grad school, I was the one who paid 20,000 dollars for her prep program. When she didn't get in, I never once held it against her. Instead, I spent weeks helping her find an internship.

A pipe burst at home? They called me.

The internet bill was overdue? Me again.

Their annual checkups, wedding gifts for relatives, and unexpected household expenses… Somehow, all of it became my responsibility.

My friends used to joke that I deserved a Daughter of the Year award. They would tell me how lucky my parents were to have me.

Some daughter of the year I was. I wasn't even allowed 15 minutes with my mother in the ICU.

I opened an old email from a company in Northbridge that had tried to recruit me months ago. This time, I accepted their offer.

If Mom didn't want to see me, then fine. She wouldn't have to see me ever again.

Chapter 2

Claire's POV

I didn't go to the hospital the next day.

That evening, my phone suddenly started buzzing nonstop. I picked it up and found the family group chat exploding with messages.

At the top was a photo Mom had posted. She was propped up against the pillows in her hospital bed, with Cathy sitting beside her. They were both smiling at the camera, their hands forming a heart between them.

Mom had added a caption. "Thank you to my sweet Cathy for taking such good care of me and helping me pull through. I wouldn't be here without you."

In the photo, Cathy was holding a hospital receipt. Her phone was conveniently angled toward the camera, showing a 1,370-dollar transaction.

The relatives immediately flooded the chat.

"Priah's out of danger now? She seems to be doing pretty well!"

"Cathy is such a good daughter. It's a weekday, and she still took time off work to stay with her mom."

"Paying the bills and taking care of her? You raised an amazing daughter. You're so lucky!"

My cousin had always been especially close to Cathy, so naturally, she was the first to bring me up. "Where's Claire? How come she isn't there?"

My aunt jumped in right after her. "Oh, Claire's a big-shot career woman now. She's far too busy making all that money to sit around at a hospital. But not even contributing to the medical bills? That's a little hard to excuse, isn't it?"

I let out a bitter laugh.

So that was what this was about. My aunt was still holding a grudge because I hadn't gotten her son a job at my company after college.

Except there hadn't been anything I could do. He'd failed so many classes that he hadn't even graduated. What was I supposed to do, march into HR and demand they hire him anyway?

Of course, my aunt insisted those were "minor details". According to her, I was simply cold and selfish and couldn't be bothered to help family.

After her message, the group chat went strangely quiet for a few minutes.

Then, another relative, the kind who lived for stirring up drama, tagged me. "Your mom was in a serious car accident. Are you really not going to help out? You always acted like such a devoted daughter before."

Mom was still active in the chat. She saw everything, but she didn't say a single word in my defense. She simply ignored those messages and replied to whichever ones suited her.

"Don't come visit me, Emma. The ICU only allows one visitor a day. Cathy says she can't sleep at night unless she sees me and makes sure I'm okay. So those visits have to be saved for Cathy."

That set everyone off again.

"Cathy really is her mom's guardian angel."

"Having a daughter like Cathy must be such a blessing."

"She's so thoughtful. Priah, you're one lucky mom."

I stared at the screen, my stomach churning. If getting the hospital's security footage weren't such a hassle, I would've loved to show them what Cathy had actually looked like during her first visit.

The impatience on her face and the way she'd clearly wanted to be anywhere else… I would have dropped that footage straight into the family chat and let everyone see their precious Cathy for themselves.

The day of the accident, Cathy hadn't even bothered to show up until after Mom's surgery was over.

Then, the hospital asked us to settle the outstanding balance.

The second Cathy saw a bill for more than 10,000 dollars, she suddenly remembered she had "something important" to do and disappeared.

Today, the other driver's insurance had finally kicked in. Cathy had paid a little over 1,000 dollars yesterday, and she'd been making sure everyone knew about it ever since.

I couldn't believe Dad had the nerve to call me calculating and accuse me of putting on a show.

I'd already decided I was cutting ties with the family. Once I left, I wouldn't have to deal with these relatives anymore, either. There was no point wasting my energy arguing with them.

At least, that was what I told myself.

Then, Dad posted two messages in the group chat.

"All I did yesterday was ask Claire to pay one hospital bill, and she accused her mother and me of treating her like an ATM. What can you do? In the end, Cathy was the one who stepped up and paid for it."

"I just never thought Claire would consider taking care of her own mother a burden."

Something inside me snapped. Within seconds, the family chat erupted.

"What's wrong with Claire? Her mother's in the hospital, and she's seriously throwing a tantrum now?"

"Exactly! She's old enough to know better. How can she still be this immature?"

"Claire, your mom nearly died, and you won't even contribute a cent toward her medical bills?"

Finally, Mom sent one last message. "Let's stop talking about things that'll only upset me. I still don't have much strength, so Cathy's been typing all these messages for me. We only have a few minutes left together. Let's talk about something happy instead."

I stared at the screen and forced myself to read every single message.

I wanted to remember every accusation, every insult, and every smug, self-righteous comment. I wanted to remember exactly who had said what and exactly who had shown me their true colors when it mattered most.

Then, I waited.

The moment the 15-minute visiting period ended and Cathy left the ICU, I uploaded a document to the family group chat.

Chapter 3

Claire's POV

I took screenshots of every payment I'd made since Mom was admitted, attached them one by one, and clearly labeled what each charge was for.

Then, I typed, "Mom's hospital bills from the past week came to 127,360 dollars. I paid every cent of it.

"Both children have an equal responsibility to support their parents, so I've attached the full breakdown here. @Cathy Brenner, your half comes to 63,680 dollars. Please send it to me as soon as possible. You can deduct half of the 1,370 dollars you paid yesterday from that amount.

"I also spent the entire past week at the hospital, seven days straight. I ate there, slept there, and barely left the building. Cathy can take over this week. I don't expect her to do as much as I did. Just don't show up for ten minutes and leave as you did on the first day."

The chat went dead silent. My aunt, who only minutes ago had been one of the loudest voices calling me selfish and immature, suddenly had nothing to say.

My cousin stopped gushing about what an amazing daughter Cathy was. And every other relative who'd been so eager to judge me? Not one of them said another word.

Dad sent me a private voice message almost immediately. He sounded so furious I could practically picture him shouting at his phone.

"Claire Brenner! What the hell are you saying in the family chat? Cathy just started working! Where is she supposed to come up with 60,000 dollars? Are you trying to ruin her life?"

I laughed.

Ruin her life?

Funny. No one had worried about ruining mine when I'd first started working.

Back then, Cathy had decided she wanted to pursue dance professionally. Private coaching, competition fees, and audition prep cost a fortune. Mom and Dad couldn't afford it, so naturally, they came to me.

Cathy's grades had already been hanging by a thread, and dance seemed like her best shot at getting into a decent college. So, I swallowed my concerns and agreed to pay.

To scrape together enough money, I moved into a rundown apartment on the outskirts of the city, turning my commute into a two-hour ordeal. Most nights, dinner was whatever I could make cheaply, usually pasta and some frozen vegetables.

The building's heating barely worked in winter. I'd sit wrapped in blankets with my laptop balanced on my knees, revising proposals late into the night.

Once, I came down with such a bad fever that I could barely keep my eyes open. I still refused to go to urgent care. I couldn't justify spending the money.

Then, I went home for the holidays and saw Cathy's terrible scores from her dance program.

For once, I lost my temper.

I told her exactly what I'd been putting myself through to pay for all of it. I did it not because I wanted her gratitude. I just wanted my little sister to understand what it was costing me. I wanted her to take it seriously.

But Mom had immediately jumped to Cathy's defense. "Why are you yelling at her? It's not like she wanted to do badly."

Then, she'd turned on me instead. "So what if your apartment isn't very nice? You're not some spoiled princess. You don't need everything to be comfortable."

Cathy had been working for two years now. But back then, I'd been out of college for exactly three months.

Why hadn't anyone thought I deserved a little sympathy too?

Back in the family chat, my younger aunt was the first to break the silence. "Claire, your mother is still lying in a hospital bed. Do you really think now is the right time to start keeping score? Whatever issues you have, can't they wait until she's discharged?"

Then, my uncle's wife chimed in, "Exactly. You're family. If you insist on calculating every penny between you, what kind of family will you have left?"

And finally, the aunt who'd been attacking me earlier returned now that she'd found a new angle.

"Claire, you make good money. What's wrong with contributing a little more? Cathy's only been working for two years, and you're demanding more than 60,000 dollars from her all at once. Don't you think that's a little cruel?"

I read the messages one by one.

Strangely, I didn't even feel angry anymore. Whatever part of me they'd been able to wound had already died a little while ago.

A few minutes later, Cathy posted a screenshot in the family chat. It was her bank balance of 1,231.70 dollars.

Then came her message.

"Claire, I really don't have that kind of money. This is everything I have in my account. If you don't believe me, I can transfer all of it to you right now."

"As for the rest… I'll ask around at work tomorrow and see if anyone can lend me some. Or maybe I can look online and find some kind of loan."

That was all it took for the group chat to explode again.

"Look at the position Cathy's in! Claire, how can you still bring yourself to pressure her like this?"

"You have a great career and make plenty of money. Is it really worth hounding your own sister over this? What would people say if they knew?"

"Cathy, whatever you do, don't take out one of those online loans! Your sister has money!"

I stared at the messages and almost found them funny. There had been a time when I'd had exactly 20 dollars left in my bank account. Mom and Dad had asked me to spend less, find a part-time job, and figure something out.

Now, Cathy had 1,200 dollars to her name, and suddenly the whole world was worried about her.

I'd always known Mom and Dad favored Cathy. I just kept telling myself it wasn't worth keeping score. Family wasn't supposed to be about who got more and who got less. As long as my parents loved me too, I'd thought I could live with getting a smaller share of that love.

I had given them everything I could, believing that sincerity would eventually be met with sincerity.

As it turned out, I'd been fooling myself all along.

…

The next day, right around visiting hours, a voice message from Mom came through. "Claire, you're her older sister. Do you really have to be this hard on Cathy?

"What did she ever do to you? If you're angry with her, then I'll apologize for her. Just stop pressuring her. You make more money, so what's wrong with taking on a little more?"

I closed my eyes.

Then, I typed, "Six months into my first job, I was laid off without warning. The company still owed me weeks of back pay, and I couldn't afford Cathy's dance lessons anymore. I asked her to take one month off until I got back on my feet.

"Do you remember what you told me? You and Cathy told me to take out a loan. So, I'm giving you the exact same advice now.

"Either you borrow the money or Cathy does. You're the one who ran a red light and caused the accident. Why should I be the one paying for all the consequences?"

The chat stayed silent for a long time.

It wasn't until the 15-minute visiting period was almost over that Mom finally replied, "But you're doing perfectly fine now, aren't you? Why are you still holding on to something that happened years ago?"

Then, another message appeared. "No man is ever going to want a woman who keeps score over every little thing."

I stared at the screen. I didn't even have the energy to be angry anymore. All I felt was exhaustion, mixed with the sheer absurdity of it all.

I didn't reply. Instead, I opened a rental app and started looking for apartments in Northbridge.

Chapter 4

Claire's POV

Two weeks later, Mom was discharged from the hospital.

The moment she saw me, her entire demeanor changed. She reached for my hand with a warm, affectionate smile, as though nothing had happened between us.

"I'll stay at your place for a while after this. I talked to your dad. You've been sulking all this time because you're upset I didn't see you first when I came out of the ICU, isn't it?

"Come on, Claire. Stop keeping score over every little thing. I'll stay with you, and then you can see me every day. Happy now?"

She said it as if she were doing me a favor. I didn't take the bait. "I've already taken a week off work because of the accident. I'm seriously behind, so I won't have time to take care of you.

"You can stay with Cathy after you're discharged. Seeing more of her should be good for your recovery, right?"

Mom's smile vanished instantly. "You've been at your company for years. Nobody's going to care if you slack off a little. Your sister is different. She's still trying to establish herself. She can't afford to let anything interfere with her career."

I gave a humorless laugh. "She's been working for two years, and we're still calling her new? I've been working for seven. What does that make me, ready for retirement?"

Mom waved me off impatiently. "Enough. You always have something to argue about. I'm staying with you, and that's final."

I didn't bother fighting her on it. There was no point anyway. In one week, I would be leaving this city for good.

The entire drive home, Mom complained. She ranted that the hospital food had been awful, the nurses had been too rough with her, and the mattress had left her back aching.

I kept my eyes on the road and said nothing.

In the past, every complaint would have sent my mind racing. I would've tried my best to fulfill her every request. This time, I didn't bother.

Over the next few days, work consumed almost every waking hour. I was leaving the company, which meant projects had to be wrapped up, responsibilities handed over, and loose ends tied up. Working late became routine.

Mom still called me at least five times a day.

Groceries, meals, rides, and errands. There was always something she needed, and she wouldn't stop calling until I'd taken care of it.

Then, over dinner the night before Thanksgiving, she casually said, "Your dad, Cathy, and I are going out for Thanksgiving tomorrow."

My fork paused halfway to my mouth. I didn't say anything.

Mom glanced at me.

"You've been so busy lately, so we figured we shouldn't bother you. We only made a reservation for three. It's a pretty expensive restaurant anyway. Look at it this way—you're saving money by not coming."

I lowered my eyes to my plate.

It hurt. But at the same time, I almost wanted to laugh.

Yes, I'd been so busy lately that I barely made it home for dinner. But my boss wasn't a monster. The office was closed for Thanksgiving. No one was expected to work.

I'd actually planned to have one last holiday dinner with them—a farewell meal, even if they didn't know it was one.

I thought I could use it to quietly close the door on 30 years of a family relationship that had never been much of a family at all. But apparently, they'd made the decision for me.

Maybe it was better this way. We didn't need that last dinner after all.

…

Early the next morning, Mom went to Cathy's place.

I started packing.

The apartment had come fully furnished, so there wasn't much to deal with. I only needed to take my personal belongings.

Mom didn't have much there either. Everything she'd brought fit into two large moving boxes. I arranged for an economy courier to pick them up and deliver them to Cathy's apartment the next day.

By early evening, I was done.

My landlord arrived with the new tenant, we completed the handover, and just like that, the apartment was no longer mine.

Not a single extra day wasted.

Later, sitting at the airport with my suitcase beside me, I opened my phone and saw a new post from Cathy.

The caption read, "Thanksgiving with Mom and Dad! Nothing better than a beautiful family dinner with the people you love."

She'd posted several photos. The three of them had even gone to a photography studio for a Thanksgiving-themed family portrait.

They looked like the perfect family.

Maybe they were. Just not mine.

A faint smile tugged at my lips. I unfriended all three of them, blocked their numbers, and put my phone away.

Then, my flight began boarding. I picked up my suitcase and walked down the jet bridge without looking back.

Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad. This time, for good.