"Mom, didn't you want cake yesterday? I went out to buy it after get off work. It's your favorite strawberry flavor. Come try it," she handed the cake to me, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
I glanced at the cake and said indifferently, "I don't want to eat it now."
A flicker of disappointment and sadness crossed her face.
But she forced a smile and said, "What do you want to eat? I'll make it for you."
I gave her a cold look, "I don't want to eat anything you cook."
With that, I steered my wheelchair to the balcony for some fresh air. As I left the room, I ran into Shane, who was playing games on his phone.
I knocked his phone to the ground and he flew into a rage, "Damn it! We're in a crucial team fight! You knocked me over like that and I'm dead! It's the promotion match!"
He picked up his phone and kicked my wheelchair hard. The wheelchair struggled hard and stumbled over.
"Mom!" Cherry screamed, rushing over, quickly shielding me and the wheelchair with her body.
The wheelchair had scraped her hand, leaving a deep gash so deep that the bone was visible and blood was flowing. But she ignored the pain.