Chapter 4

Mom's and Richard's child hadn't even been born yet.

But to show just how much they treasured their "own flesh and blood," they decided to prepare the nursery early.

So, they moved me out to the balcony ahead of schedule.

My first night out there, I fell ill again with fever.

Even with the windows latched, the wind and rain found their way in from every crack. It was like sleeping in a damp, drafty icebox.

Every night, I had to wrap myself in two blankets to sleep.

One night, I woke up thirsty, wanting to get a glass of hot water from the living room.

As I walked into the living room, I saw an unfinished box of cherries on the coffee table.

They were large, deep purple, and exuded an inviting sweetness.

Beside them was a note from Richard.

"Honey, these organic cherries are for energy and glow, especially for our little one's vitamins. They're forty dollars a pound, so make sure no outsiders touch them."

That "outsider," of course, referred to me.

I looked at that box of cherries.

A cold laugh echoed in my mind.

Just then, a whisper came from the master bedroom.

"Water... get me some water..."

Richard was away on a business trip.

Tiffany, as usual, was sleeping over at a friend's.

Neither of them was home tonight.

I pushed open the door.

Mom lay in bed, her face pale, her forehead shiny with cold sweat. The pregnancy was hard on her. Her legs had cramped in the dark, and she was both thirsty and in pain.

When she saw me, she spoke as if it were her birthright.

"Chloe, are you deaf? I've been calling you forever! Can't you see I was suffering? Massage my legs. Now. The cramp hurts."

I stood silently by the bed.

"Mom, it's three in the morning."

I looked coldly at my weak mom. "This is off-duty. Night care service fees are doubled."

Mom's eyes widened, as if she didn't recognize me.

"What are you talking about?"

Because I had never defied Richard and Mom, and never used such a cold tone with them.

In that moment, Mom found me utterly foreign.

"Chloe, I'm your mother! And I'm carrying your sibling! All I'm asking is for you to rub my legs. How can you even say such things?"

"Even mothers and daughters should keep accounts clear. You don't get 'motherly privilege' from me. That's exactly what you and Richard taught me."

I started calculating like they did-everything reduced to a number.

Everything had a price.

"Fetching water: ten dollars. A fifteen-minute leg massage: starts at fifty. Since it's after hours, a thirty-dollar surcharge applies. That's ninety dollars total."

Furious, Mom grabbed a pillow and hurled it at me.

I sidestepped coldly. It thudded to the floor.

"Of course, if you want me to pick that up, Mom, that'll be an extra five."

I made another notation, my face blank. The obedient child was long gone.

"Mom, you're free to refuse. It's your pain, after all. And it's Richard's child in your belly that will pay for it."

With that, I turned to leave.

"Wait!" Mom shrieked, a hand flying to her stomach as if to shield the baby. Sweat beaded on her forehead from the pain. "Fine! Get the water! Massage my legs! Just...just put it on my account."

A cold smile touched my lips.

"Sorry, Mom. You've quit your job. I can't extend credit to someone with no income. My margins are too thin, and I don't do charity. Payment first. Then I work."

Faced with my sudden change, Mom trembled with rage.

But the agony in her legs was real. It forced her hand.

I took the payment. Then, as agreed, I fetched the water. I walked over, pulled back the covers, and began to work on her calves.

My heart was a still pond. Not a single ripple of feeling remained.

From now on, in this house, there was no mother. There was no daughter.

There was only a client. And a service provider.

I no longer craved the privileges Richard and Mom enjoyed.

Since they had turned the balcony into my "room," I started calculating-down to the last detail.

I claimed exclusive rights to the space. No one could enter without my permission, and nothing of theirs could be stored there.

Richard and Mom called me an ungrateful wretch.

I didn't care.