People tried to intervene, but she chased them away with insults. Her words still ring in my ears: “Who do you think you are? Just because you’ve made a little money, you think you’re better than me? I raised you, and every penny you earn should go to me and Richard! How dare you make decisions on your own? You ungrateful brat!”
She acted like it was my duty to hand over everything I earned. To her, they were the righteous ones, and I was nothing more than an ant underfoot.
Back then, I was just sad, swallowing my anger. She demanded I sell the house, but I refused. We were at an impasse for a long time until she finally gave in—on the condition that I move back home. The house would stay in my name for now, but I was expected to transfer ownership to Ethan as soon as he came of age.
But now, given this second chance at life, I no longer care about the family affection I once clung to. They can call me unfilial all they want—I just want to live my life on my own terms.
My mom bombarded me with calls and nasty texts, but I ignored them. The next day, I consulted with some experts and went to the orphanage to start the adoption process.