When we got home that night, my brother, Peter Rogers, was heartbroken to see the injuries on Ethan's face.
He thought his child was sick and resorted to me, especially when he heard that Ethan repelled the school and felt uncontrollably suppressed and unbearable.
"Amber, one of your best friends studies psychology, right? Take Ethan to see her tomorrow." In my previous life, he demanded me to do the same thing.
Then, I was busy looking for experts in the field of psychology for Ethan and spent almost a couple of thousand dollars, including the prescription.
Peter was a taxi driver, and Daisy was a full-time housewife at home.
Since they didn't have much savings, they were naturally reluctant to spend the money.
Meanwhile, Peyton came from the countryside and didn't trust hospitals at all. She thought doctors were all swindlers.
So, she also decided to stop Ethan's mental treatment.
I couldn't bear to see my nephew suffer from depression and end up killing himself and afforded the medical expenses myself.
But all my energy and money in my previous life was in exchange for Ethan's ungrateful harm to me.
This time, I would not make myself so pathetic with unnecessary sympathy.