Grieving family.

I took my three-year-old granddaughter out to play. Just one tiny slip, one fleeting second, and Lily tumbled, scraping her precious knee. When we got home, my son shot me a glacial glare, his voice laced with blame. Then, my daughter-in-law slapped me hard, the sting searing my cheek, and shrieked at me to get out! The years of their contempt flooded my mind. I bit back the torrent of tears, gritting my teeth. “Fine, I’ll go!” I declared. They had no idea I’d just received a five-million-dollar property buyout. I’m 55 this year. My husband died in a car accident when my son was ten, leaving us a widow and an orphan. I refused every suitor who came calling, fearing my son would be mistreated if I remarried. I worked multiple jobs, raising him single-handedly. My son, Kevin, was bright. He got into a prestigious university and even brought home a sophisticated girlfriend from the city. I was over the moon. When Kevin married Brittany, I poured every last penny of my savings, even the settlement from my husband’s accident years ago, into their wedding and a substantial down payment on an apartment in the city. It was a grand affair, and I moved in with them. Everyone in my old town said I was so lucky, moving to the city to live comfortably with my son and his wife. But who knew the heartache I carried? Kevin’s wedding had drained all my money. Brittany always saw me as nothing but a freeloader and never gave me a kind glance. I tried to find work, but the year after Kevin got married, Brittany got pregnant. I had to stay home to take care of her. After Lily was born, I took on the task of raising my granddaughter. Yet, everything I did, Kevin and Brittany took for granted. Brittany, especially, was constantly picking flaws, ordering me around daily. At first, Kevin would occasionally stand up for me, but Brittany’s tantrums quickly silenced him. Soon, he joined her in criticizing me, giving me the cold shoulder. They say a harmonious home brings prosperity, and I truly believed that. I didn’t want the tension between Brittany and me to upset Kevin, so I always gave in, always tolerated. To earn their smiles, I’d wake before dawn to make breakfast. For lunch, I’d cook and deliver meals to their offices. And of course, all the laundry and cleaning at home? That was entirely my responsibility. But no matter how hard I worked, I never received a smile from Brittany. Even hearing her call me “Mom” was a luxury. I tried to accept it. As long as they were happy, my own grievances as a mother didn’t matter. But Brittany grew increasingly intolerant of me. Especially after Lily was born, she’d constantly complain the apartment was too small, that Lily wouldn’t even have a study room when she grew up. I knew she wanted me to leave, but where was I supposed to go? Back to the old town? My neighbors would laugh at me. Besides, Kevin was my only son. Who else did I have? I hadn’t had any income for years. I had no idea where I could go. Seeing my lack of response, her attitude grew nastier. She’d constantly tell me to “get out,” practically pushing me out the door herself. I tried to endure, but it became unbearable. That day, I took Lily downstairs to play in the complex. As we reached the entrance, I got a call. While I was on the phone, Lily suddenly slipped. Before I could react, she’d already fallen. There were some small pebbles on the ground. They scraped her delicate knee, and blood began to seep through. Lily cried inconsolably from the pain. I deeply regretted not holding her hand. My heart aching with guilt and pity, I picked her up and carried her home. Back home, Kevin and Brittany were watching TV. They rushed over when they heard Lily crying. Kevin examined Lily’s scraped knee, his face cold as he turned to me. “Mom, how could you be so careless?” Brittany snatched Lily from my arms, her face furious. She screamed at me, “Even a dog can watch a house! You can’t even look after a child! You’re just a waste of food!” Years of pent-up resentment surged. “I watch the child AND do all the housework! And I’m still wasting *your* food?” Seeing me talk back, Brittany’s face twisted into a sneer. She turned to Kevin, “See? Your mom’s complaining about doing too much work. We can’t afford to house this saint anymore.” Kevin, irritated, snapped at me, “Mom, just keep quiet.” I trembled with rage. My spineless son! He was nothing but an ungrateful wretch! Me: “Why should I leave? Don’t forget, I paid the down payment on this apartment!” Brittany sneered: “So what if you paid a down payment? Other in-laws buy the whole place! It’s my bad luck to get stuck with a pauper like you. Besides, both our names are on the deed. I have every right to tell you to get out!” I looked at Kevin. He stared at the floor, pretending it had nothing to do with him. Trembling, I pointed at them. “You two heartless monsters!” Brittany, infuriated by my insult, lunged forward and slapped me hard across the face. She then shoved me towards the door. “Get out! You have hands and feet, stop clinging on here!” The blow made my head spin. Brittany used to just give me dirty looks and yell. Today, she actually laid her hands on me! Clutching my burning cheek, I fought back tears. “You awful woman! What kind of upbringing did you have, hitting your own mother-in-law?” Brittany continued to push me. “Mother-in-law? Other mother-in-laws shower their kids with money! You just freeload! Get out, now!” Kevin turned his head, pretending not to see. My heart plummeted, utterly shattered. I covered my face, pushed Brittany’s hand away, and gritted my teeth. “Fine, I’ll go!” They had no idea that the call I’d just received was from my old town. The old family property was being redeveloped, and my dilapidated little house was actually getting a five-million-dollar buyout. The topic of the old town’s redevelopment had been circulating for over a decade, but nothing ever came of it. They’d measured the land and registered everything years ago, but for some reason, it had been continuously delayed.

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