Chapter 3

The baby was critically ill, and everyone was scrambling to raise funds.

Logan looked frantic, pacing and making call after call.

Chloe collapsed onto the floor, trembling.

The doctor muttered something about "congenital organ enlargement," saying the baby wouldn't survive without an urgent organ transplant.

I walked up and shoved the DNA report into her hands. She pressed her lips together, staring at it for a long time in silence.

I looked at her smugly. "Convinced you're my daughter now? What else do you have to say?"

Chloe looked up at me stubbornly, tears streaming down. "Mom! You heard the doctor! My baby is sick—he’s your grandson! It'll take over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars to save his life! Please, help me!"

I let out a cold laugh:

"Out of the question! That's my retirement fund!"

"A loan! Can I borrow it? Mom, I know you must have saved over a hundred and fifty thousand over the years. I'm begging you!"

I turned a deaf ear.

When handing her the DNA test, I had accidentally slipped a bank wire receipt along with it.

Her sharp eyes caught it, and her whole body went rigid.

"Mom... what is this six-thousand-dollar wire transfer?"

Seeing that I had that much money, Chloe tried again to appeal to my conscience.

Her voice was hoarse, practically a scream:

"Mom, if you have spare cash to donate to charity, why can't you show any mercy to me and your grandson?"

"I'm your own daughter!"

"Mom, I'm not ungrateful! You gave birth to me, and I will repay you for raising me! But my baby has an emergency, he needs this money to live..."

"Bullshit! It’s my money! Spending it on your kid? Keep dreaming! I’ll spend my money however I damn well please! Now give me my three hundred dollars!"

Not only did I reject her plea,

I didn't bother explaining the wire receipt either. Instead, I demanded she hand over the support money right there and then.

Logan snatched both papers from her hands. After reading them, he spat with pure disgust, "Chloe is cursed to have a mother like you!"

The friends who had followed them were equally outraged:

"She’s actually her biological mother! How can anyone be so ruthless?!"

"She's a monster! Chloe, just cut ties with her! We’ve all seen how much money you’ve given her over the years. Her own grandson is dying, and instead of helping, she has the nerve to demand money right here in the ER!"

They spoke with righteous indignation.

Losing my patience, I snapped at them, "Give me the money! If you don't pay up, I'll call the cops and report you for abandoning your elderly mother! I'll have them arrest you!"

"And if you lose your jobs over this, don't blame me!"

Everyone was stunned.

Chloe broke down, sobbing uncontrollably:

"Mom, do you even have a soul? You clearly have money, and your grandson is dying! He would have called you Grandma! How could you?!"

Ignoring her, I reached to snatch back the papers, but she dodged.

Her voice rose: "Go ahead and call the cops! You care so much about strangers' kids, but you treat your own daughter and grandson like dirt! Let’s see whose side the police take!"

I rolled my eyes and cursed under my breath:

"I should've aborted you back then! You're utterly useless!" I yanked the papers from her grip.

Under the furious glares of Chloe and Logan, I took the three hundred dollars.

Then, I walked away with satisfaction.

Before leaving the hospital, I overheard Logan’s parents discussing selling their house to pay for the medical bills.

I immediately texted Chloe:

"I heard your in-laws are selling their house. Next month’s support is bumped up to six hundred dollars."

I walked two hours back home. For dinner, I had a piece of dry bread and a glass of warm tap water.

At midnight, my phone rang. It was the police.

"Ms. Evelyn Vance? Your daughter, Chloe, is on the roof of the Central Tower. She's about to jump!"

My heart slammed to a stop. The room spun around me.

Clutching the phone, I gasped.

"You're... joking, right?"

She had a loving husband and a six-month-old baby. Why would she jump?