“We’ve given you 180,000 dollars over the years, haven’t we? We agreed this was for emergencies—not for you to waste! I didn’t expect you to become so vain after just three years of marriage. I shouldn’t have sent you to school. What use were all those saintly books you read?”
When I was younger, my parents had set very low academic expectations for me. They always said that girls just needed to be happy. Back then, I thought it was a form of love. Now I realized—they just didn’t want to invest time or money in me.
Calmly, I took out my hospital diagnosis and laid it on the table. “I have cancer. The 5 million dollars in that card are gone. I urgently need money to survive. So you must return that 50,000 dollars!”
“What!” my parents exclaimed in unison, though there wasn’t a trace of concern in their eyes.
My father didn't even glance at the diagnosis and he directly scolded me on the spot, "Alice, in order to avoid giving money, you can even make up a story so far about terminal illness?"
I was amused by his words and just as I was about to refute him, I heard my phone ding.
"5 million dollars has been credited to your bank account."