Before I died,I won five million pounds

chapter 6

To say I didn't crave a mother's love would be a lie.

My uncle called several times, urging me to visit Mum, saying she'd fallen ill.

Finally, I relented, bought some fruit, and went to the hospital.

Before entering, I heard her on the phone.

"Saul said he'd come today. I'll sort the money. Please look after my husband for me."

Saul was my uncle.

My fists clenched. I spun my wheelchair and left.

Two days later, a number from Yuncheng rang.

"Chloe, your father fell from the third floor. His leg's broken. Come to the hospital immediately."

The name Chloe sounded unbearably jarring. After giving birth to me, my mother had wanted another child, but all these years, nothing had happened.

"I don't have a father. Don't call me."

My mother was furious: "How can you be so heartless? He's your father! You won't even come see him once!"

I hung up immediately.

Undeterred, my mother began turning up at my workplace daily.

"Now that you're earning money, it's your duty to care for us in our old age and see us off when we die!"

I stared down at my lifeless leg and replied coldly:

"Then who will compensate me for the body I should have had?"

My uncle, who'd known about my father's hospitalisation beforehand, urged me to at least visit him, even if I couldn't afford to pay for anything.

My aunt shot him a withering glance and spat:

"Now you remember your daughter? Why didn't you take her with you when you abandoned her for that bastard with three thousand quid?"

"Now she sees her daughter's earning money and wants to milk her dry. She's got all her limbs, yet she has the nerve to take it! They'll only be satisfied when they've driven their daughter to death!"

My uncle stopped trying to persuade me and secretly transferred money to my mother. She didn't come looking for me again.

But my aunt found out and demanded the money back from my mother. It had already been sent to the hospital.

My aunt resorted to tears and tantrums, demanding they repay the money or she'd have people pull out my father's feeding tube.

With no other option, my mother came looking for me again.

She mimicked my aunt's behaviour, threatening to throw herself to her death before my eyes if I didn't give her the money.

"Once you're married, you won't even have your birth family to rely on."

"That's none of your concern."

"How could it not concern me? You crawled out of my womb. Without me, you wouldn't exist."

She had me seething.

"I've no money. If it comes to it, take me to court. Fine, I'll see it through to the end."

She persisted, shamelessly: "I heard from your father that banks offer loans now, with better policies for disabled people like you. Take out a loan to repay me for giving birth to you."

"Anyway, with your crippled legs, who knows? Future policies might mean you don't have to repay it. Even if you do, you won't have many years left. If you die with no one to prove it, I'm only thinking of us. Your father is the pillar of the family; he can't have anything happen to him."

My heart ached with rage, and I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

My mother shoved me to the company entrance and screamed:

"Your company abused my daughter! Look what you've done to her! Pay compensation!"

Colleagues rushed over, wiping my mouth with tissues and calling an ambulance.