Chapter 2

Lily’s crying stopped instantly.

Arthur hadn't expected me to be so submissive. He froze for a second.

"I only have one condition."

I held out my hand, palm up. It was rough, covered in thick calluses from years of hard labor.

"Give me a hundred thousand dollars."

The living room fell into a dead, suffocating silence.

The disgust in Eleanor’s eyes practically boiled over. "As expected of a girl raised in the slums. Money is the only thing that comes out of your mouth. Absolutely no manners!"

Lily chimed in with a timid, fragile voice. "Hazel, Mom and Dad just brought you home. How can you... talk about money? It hurts our family's feelings."

I looked at them expressionlessly.

If we don't talk about money, what should we talk about?

Should we talk about how you lost me for eighteen years?

Or should we talk about how you were throwing a lavish birthday party for Lily while my foster father was cracking a beer bottle over my head?

I didn't even bother to explain that this money was to save my life.

In their eyes, a piece of trash like me getting a terminal illness would probably just be seen as bad luck rubbing off on them.

"Give me the money, and I will play along with whatever happy family drama you want."

"Don't give it to me, and I walk out that door right now to find the media. We can talk about the dirty secrets of the Vance family's real and fake daughters."

I was completely calm. My voice didn't even tremble.

Arthur’s face turned violently pale. This was his biological daughter—drenched in the smell of cheap money, without a single shred of family affection.

He whipped out his checkbook, scribbled a series of numbers, and threw the check right at my face.

"Take the money and shut up!"

"This hundred thousand dollars buys out your greed. From now on, your monthly allowance is five hundred dollars. Not a single penny more!"

The check fluttered lightly onto the floor.

I bent down and picked it up.

I blew the dust off it.

Perfect. The first round of chemotherapy was covered.

I slipped the check into my pocket and gave them a textbook-perfect bow.

"Thank you, Mr. Vance. Thank you, Mrs. Vance."

"As long as the money keeps coming, I will be a ghost in this house."

"I'll even cry the loudest at your funerals."

With that, I grabbed my bag and walked straight toward the maid's room.

Behind me, Eleanor shrieked in rage, while Lily offered her fake, soothing comfort.

I shut the door, and the world finally went quiet.

Feeling a sharp, throbbing pain in the back of my head, I pulled a bottle of painkillers from my bag and chewed two tablets dry.

The bitter taste exploded in my mouth.

It’s okay, Hazel.

You have the money now. You get to live.

As long as you can survive, who cares if you have to play the dog?