Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Before Howard could grab the brass handle, the door swung open, and my youngest son, Pierce, sauntered into the room carrying a lavish fruit basket.

He took one look at Howard's crimson face, then glanced at me, clapping a dramatic hand over his mouth.

"Well, well, what happened here? Howard, your face looks like a boiled lobster. Who pissed in your cereal?"

Howard glared at him with venom. "None of your damn business!"

"Let me guess, you came here to harass Mom for cash again, didn't you?"

Pierce tossed the fruit basket onto the nightstand, intentionally raising his voice so the nurses in the hall could hear.

"Were you demanding money again? Honestly, Howard, you have no shame! Mom just got admitted, and instead of taking care of her, you show up to suck her dry like a parasite!"

"Shut your hypocritical mouth!" Howard snapped, stepping into his face. "I asked for Maisie's tuition, which is completely valid! That is a hundred times better than you blowing thousands on designer clothes and vanity items like a bottomless pit!"

"What is wrong with treating myself? I spend my own money! Unlike you, scheming to fleece Mom every single week! The care fund is for Mom's retirement, not your kid's hobby!"

"You don't know jack shit! It is an investment! When Maisie makes it big, she will take care of Grandma!"

"You are full of crap! Mom needs peace and quiet right now, not your empty daydreams!"

The two of them barked at each other, turning my hospital room into a chaotic circus.

A throbbing migraine tore through my temples. Just as I opened my mouth to shout, a floor nurse walked in with a tray of medication, scowling deeply.

"Keep it down! This is a recovery floor, not a bar. If you want to scream at each other, take it outside!"

Silence finally fell over the room.

Howard sneered, shot a murderous glare at Pierce, and slammed the door behind him.

The second he was gone, Pierce transformed. He quickly handed the nurse a bottle of cold spring water from the basket, flashing a polite, boyish smile.

"I am so sorry about that, ma'am. Family drama, you know how it is."

The nurse ignored the water, adjusted my IV drip, and walked out without a word.

Once the room was quiet again, Pierce pulled up a chair right next to my pillow. He tucked in my blanket, peeled an apple with practiced precision, and spoke in the softest voice imaginable.

"Mom, don't let Howard get to you. He has always been a greedy jerk who only cares about cash."

"Are you thirsty? Let me pour you some warm water."

Looking at his attentive, smiling face, an icy shudder ran down my spine.

In my previous life, I had fallen for this exact act. I genuinely thought my youngest child truly loved me and cared for my well-being.

It took dying to realize that his sweet devotion was nothing more than an elaborate performance designed to soften me up before delivering the real blow.

Sure enough, he spent the next two days playing the model son.

He brought organic soup every morning, sat by my bed until late evening, and sprinkled every sentence with gentle affection.

Even the hired caregiver whispered to me on the third day, "Your youngest son is so devoted. He is so much better than the other two."

I merely smiled and said nothing.

On the third afternoon, Pierce sat peeling another apple, pretending to chat casually.

"Mom, I saw these incredible limited-edition designer sneakers at the mall yesterday. They only cost thirty grand."

I remained silent, staring ahead.

He held up his phone, showing me the glossy photo of the shoes.

"Look at this colorway. Everyone at my office already has a pair from this drop, and I am the only one left out. It is honestly so embarrassing."

I took a bite of the sliced apple and offered no response.

His smile wavered. He set his phone down, reached out to hold my hand, and adopted a wheedling tone.

"Mom, why don't you buy them for me? Think of it as… as an early birthday gift. Thirty thousand is practically nothing to you, right?"

Looking at his eager, calculating eyes, I let out a dry chuckle.

"Your second brother wanted fifty thousand, and now you want thirty thousand. Did you two coordinate your requests beforehand?"

His expression stiffened awkwardly.

"Mom, what are you talking about? I am nothing like him! I just… I really like these shoes."

"I don't have the money," I said evenly, pulling my hand away. "The family fund is gone."

The color drained from Pierce's face. He shot up from his chair as if he had been stung by a hornet.

"Gone?! That was hundreds of thousands of dollars! How could it just vanish into thin air? Did you…"

He pointed a shaking finger at me, spluttering with rage before slamming the apple onto the table.

"Unbelievable! You planned this all along, didn't you? No wonder you turned Howard away, and no wonder my taking care of you for days meant absolutely nothing! You just want to hoard every red cent for yourself!"

Seeing him drop the mask and reveal his true colors brought me a strange sense of relief.

"Yes," I replied calmly. "It is my money, and I will spend it however I want. None of you will ever get another dime."

Pierce trembled with fury, snatched his designer jacket from the rack, and headed for the exit.

"Fine! Evelyn, you are a piece of work! When you are too old and sick to get out of bed, don't you dare call me to wipe your ass!"

The door slammed shut with a deafening thud.

I leaned back against the pillows, staring up at the white ceiling as hot tears silently traced my cheeks.

These were the sons I had dedicated my entire life to raising, and every single one of them saw me as nothing more than a cash cow to butcher.