Chapter 2

Clutching the photograph tightly, I walked out into the living room.

My daughter-in-law, Chloe, slammed a lunchbox onto the glass coffee table, glaring at me.

"Didn't I tell you Bella hates carrots?! Why did you pack them in her lunch anyway?!"

I paused, keeping my voice steady as I explained.

"Bella fainted at school last week. I took her to the clinic myself, and the doctor said she's severely deficient in essential vitamins."

"Carrots are full of the nutrients she needs. I only made them for her health."

I still vividly remembered the panic from that afternoon. I had just finished scrubbing down the kitchen when the school called.

The teacher told me she had dialed both Chloe and my son multiple times, but neither of them answered, so she had no choice but to call me.

I had run through pouring rain to reach the urgent care clinic.

Back then, little Bella was lying pale on the examination bed, suffering from fatigue and anemia.

The moment my son rushed in, instead of asking if she was okay, he immediately blamed me, claiming I didn't feed her balanced meals.

In reality, they were the ones who spoiled Bella relentlessly, letting her refuse every vegetable and eat nothing but fried chicken and sweets.

After bringing her home, I spent days testing different recipes, pureeing carrots into delicious sauces and baked treats so she would eat them without fuss.

Bella had eaten them happily just days ago. Why the sudden tantrum now?

I glanced over at Bella. Hiding behind Chloe, the little girl stuck her tongue out at me with a smug smirk.

I instantly understood. She was just playing the victim to get extra attention from her mother.

Chloe scoffed, tossing her hair as she prepared to snap back, but the front door clicked open.

It was my son, Lucas—or rather, Ethan’s son.

He marched over, his brows furrowed in deep annoyance.

"What’s going on here?"

Chloe immediately rushed to his side, pouting dramatically.

"It's Mrs. Miller again! She knows damn well Bella hates carrots, yet she deliberately packed them anyway!"

"Bella didn't touch her lunch and starved the entire afternoon at school!"

A hollow laugh escaped my throat at the sheer absurdity of the accusation.

I hadn't just packed carrots.

Knowing Bella was a picky eater, I spent hours every morning preparing four separate dishes, rotating them daily so she had plenty of options.

Hearing Chloe’s whine, Bella scurried over, wrapped her arms around Lucas's leg, and joined in.

"Yeah! Grandma is mean!"

"I hate Grandma!"

Lucas turned to face me, his expression cold and displeased.

"Mrs. Miller, what is your problem?"

"Why do you keep making food that Bella hates?"

"Mrs. Miller." Such an icy, distant title.

I had cared for him for thirty whole years, yet he had never once called me Mom.

When he married Chloe, he even pulled her aside and explicitly instructed her never to call me Mom—only Mrs. Miller.

I had poured half my life into this household, only to be treated like an unwelcome maid, subjected to their constant interrogation and contempt.

I had no desire to argue anymore. Raising my arm, I held out the faded family portrait and spoke softly.

"Cooking for your daughter was never my obligation. It belongs to your actual mother—and I am not her."

Lucas caught sight of the photograph. His eyes widened, and a flash of panic washed over his face.

"Wait... that's not what you think, Mom!"

The word "Mom" struck me like a physical blow.

I froze.

The single word I had spent a lifetime longing to hear finally left his mouth, yet all I felt inside was a vast, hollow numbness. No joy. No warmth.

I looked at him with a faint, bitter smile.

"You're thirty years too late with that title."

I turned around to walk away, but Lucas lunged forward, grabbing my forearm tightly.

"Mom! It's just an old picture, why are you making such a huge deal out of it?!"

"Have we ever treated you badly? It was just a photo taken years ago! If you care that much, we can go take a new one together this weekend, alright?!"

I yanked my arm violently from his grip, looking him dead in the eye.

"You think I'm being petty?"

"I broke my back taking care of you for thirty straight years! Did you ever call me Mom even once during all that time?!"

"Do you think I care about a stupid piece of photo paper?! What hurts is that every single one of you knew the truth while I was kept completely in the dark, acting like a fool!"

"I spent decades slaving away for this family. I'm done. I'm exhausted."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked straight out the front door.

Lucas’s angry shout echoed down the hallway behind me.

"Just wait until I tell Dad about this!"

"Let's see where an old woman like you thinks she can run off to!"