1 My mother was the kind of woman who couldn’t survive without a man. Three months after my father died, she started dating like she’d gone mad. The first guy drove an illegal cab. One night, drunk out of his mind, he dragged me out of bed and told me to get out. My mother actually did it. She watched me stand barefoot in the hallway, shaking, and only said, “That’s just how he is. Let it go.” The second was her coworker. While she was working overtime, he pinned me down on the couch and touched my thigh. When I told her, she stared for a few seconds, then laughed. “You’re only fourteen. What do you know about harassment?” The third sold insurance. He coaxed her into putting all of my father’s death benefits into a “wealth management plan,” then disappeared. She held me and cried, saying she was sorry to my dad. I thought she had finally woken up. Less than a month later, she was in love again. This time, to prove her loyalty to her boyfriend, she tried to burn the old land deed my father had left behind. When the flame rose, she smiled at the man beside her. “Gary, you’re right. I need to say goodbye to the past.” “That useless deed? Tessa’s father said it was worth six hundred million. As if I’d believe that.” “Mom! What are you doing?” I rushed forward and snatched the deed from her hand. The flame licked across my fingertips, and pain jolted through me. I quickly slapped it out and looked down at the paper. The lower-left corner was already gone, the charred edge curled black, the bitter smell of burned paper filling my nose. My mother was still holding the lighter. She froze for a second. “Tessa, what are you doing?” She frowned. “Give it to me.” I hid the deed behind my back. “This is what Dad left. You can’t burn it.” “It’s fake!” My mother looked at me with disdain and gave an ugly little laugh. “Your uncle Gary already looked at it. It’s fake.” “Your father loved bragging. Six hundred million? You actually believe that?” “She’s been clinging to this scrap of paper for years. I should have burned it long ago.” Gary Fletcher sat on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other, lazily joining in. “Tessa, I’ve been around longer than you. I can tell if something’s real or fake at a glance.” “Your mom’s right. It’s just an old piece of paper. Keeping it only takes up space.” “Besides, your mother is starting a new life. What does it mean for her to keep things from her previous man?” “Exactly.” My mother leaned closer to him. “I’m saying goodbye to the past. This stupid thing should be the first to go.” I looked at her. She was in her fifties, but leaning against Gary’s shoulder, she looked like a girl in her twenties. Her eyes were bright, almost coquettish. Fifteen years ago, when my father died, she cried until she fainted twice. Now, for a man she had known for forty days, she wanted to burn the last thing he left behind. “Mom.” I tried to steady my voice. “This deed is real. Dad told me himself. There’s another half somewhere. Once we find it…” “Enough!” She waved impatiently. “Before your father died, he told me to live well. Isn’t that what I’m doing now? Why do you insist on stabbing me in the heart with some old paper?” As she spoke, her eyes reddened. She turned to Gary. “Gary, look at her. She doesn’t understand me at all.” Gary patted her hand and stood, walking toward me. “Tessa, you’re in your twenties now. Be sensible.” “If you keep dragging up your father’s things, how is your mother supposed to move on?” “What can that old paper do for you? Can you eat it?” I swallowed my anger and looked up at him. “It belonged to my father. I’m keeping it.” 2 He stared at me for two seconds, then laughed. He turned back to my mother and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Forget it, Linda. She’s stubborn. Don’t argue with a child.” “It’s fake anyway. Burn it or don’t burn it, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’ve let go in your heart.” My mother leaned into him and looked up with tender eyes. “Gary, you’re so good to me.” My fingers tightened around the deed. I said nothing. I went back to my room and shut the door. From diagnosis to death, my father’s illness lasted eight months. I found this deed while sorting through his belongings. It had been hidden in a tin box at the bottom of his wardrobe, wrapped in red cloth. My father loved collecting old things. Stamps, ration coupons, old coins. None of them were worth much. But this deed, he had mentioned several times. “Tessa, this is the deed to our old family property. It was issued before the war. There were originally two copies.” “When your dad finds the other half, you’ll know I wasn’t lying.” Maybe the deed was only a keepsake. But it was my father’s keepsake. My mother’s laughter came from outside the door, muffled but clear enough. She laughed like that often when she was with Gary. I touched the burned edge of the deed. My phone rang. I answered. “Is this Ms. Tessa Hart?” “Yes.” “I’m calling from the City Heritage Records Office. You contacted us before about an old land deed, correct?” My heart skipped. “Yes, that was me.” “We recently received half of a prewar land deed.” “Based on our preliminary comparison, it may match the half you described.” “If it’s convenient, please bring your half in so we can verify it.” I tightened my grip on the phone and glanced toward the door. “It’s convenient.” “Tomorrow morning at nine. I’ll text you the address.” After hanging up, I stood there stunned. The other half had surfaced. My father hadn’t been lying. In the living room, my mother laughed again. I cooked dinner that night. When my father was alive, he always cooked for us. Before he died, he held my hand and told me to look after my mother. So I learned. I wasn’t good at it, but the food was edible. I brought the dishes to the table and set out the bowls and chopsticks. Gary sat down first, tapped his chopsticks on the table, and grabbed a large piece of meat. “Eat more. You’ve gotten so thin lately.” My mother sat beside him and pushed the stir-fried pork with mushrooms toward him. I sat down with my bowl and picked up some vegetables. “Mom, tomorrow morning I need to…” “Gary.” My mother interrupted me. “Didn’t you say your knee hurts? I’ll go with you to the hospital tomorrow.” Gary waved his chopsticks. “No need. I’ll use some patches for a couple days.” “How can that be enough? What if it’s serious?” She frowned, set down her chopsticks, and started pressing his knee. “Does it hurt here? What about here?” Gary dodged her hand, a little impatient. “We’re eating. Stop touching it.” My mother didn’t get angry. She smiled instead. “Fine, fine. After dinner, then.” I put down my chopsticks. “Mom, I need to go to the Heritage Records Office tomorrow morning.” She finally turned to me. “What office?” “The Heritage Records Office. About that deed. They said the other…” “Enough!” She slammed her chopsticks onto the table. She glared at me, her face dark. “Are you done? We’re eating. Do you have to bring this up? Are you trying to ruin my appetite?” Gary kept eating slowly beside her, not even lifting his eyelids. I opened my mouth but said nothing. My mother picked up her bowl again, took some food, and leaned toward Gary with a smile. “Here, have more of this.” I lowered my head and finished my rice bite by bite. It wasn’t always like this. When Dad was alive, she believed whatever I said. If a classmate borrowed ten dollars and didn’t pay me back, and I said he stole my money, she would go to the teacher the next day. If I failed an exam and said the test was too hard and the whole class did badly, she would stroke my head and say it was fine, I could try again next time. Now, when I wanted to say something to her, she told me to shut up. I set down my bowl and stood. “I’m done.” No one answered. My mother was busy ladling soup for Gary. I went back to my room and closed the door. The deed was still on my desk, pressed under a thick book. As soon as I sat down, I noticed my drawer had been touched. The drawer I never shut all the way was now closed tightly. I opened it. Everything inside had been rummaged through. I froze, then stood and opened the wardrobe. My clothes had been searched too. The folded stacks were scattered. 3 I gripped the wardrobe handle and stood there for a while. Then I opened my door and walked out. “Mom, did you go through my room?” She was clearing the dishes and didn’t even look up. “Yes. I was looking for that scrap of paper.” “You didn’t ask.” She stacked the bowls together and looked at me. “I’m your mother. Am I not allowed in your room?” She set the bowls down hard, raising her voice. “Tessa, I raised you for more than twenty years, and now you’re guarding against me like I’m a thief?” Gary leaned on the sofa, looking at his phone. The corner of his mouth lifted. I looked at my mother. “I’m not guarding against you. It’s Dad’s keepsake.” “Keepsake?” She laughed. “Why would your father leave that thing? To make you fight me? To make you obsessed with money?” “You think you’re a princess waiting to inherit treasure?” I clenched my fists. “I just want to keep it.” “Keep it for what? To burn for me after I die?” She walked over and stood in front of me. “Tessa, you’re grown now. Your wings are hard, huh? I can’t control you anymore?” “I shouldn’t have let you snatch that paper away yesterday.” “If you weren’t my daughter, I’d think you were trying to make me angry enough to die.” The next morning, I went downstairs to take out the trash and ran into Mrs. Lewis from across the hall. When she saw me, she smiled oddly. “Tessa, your mom said you’ve been fighting with her?” I stood there holding the garbage bag. “Don’t be too stubborn, kid. Your mom hasn’t had it easy, raising you alone.” I said nothing. Two steps later, I ran into Mrs. Brooks from the third floor. “Tessa, your mother said you’ve gotten obsessed with some old deed. That’s not good. Young people shouldn’t chase crooked dreams.” “She cried to me, said you’ve been upsetting her lately. Being a mother is hard. Try to understand her.” I nodded and went upstairs. At the third-floor landing, I stopped. On the night of my father’s funeral, after everyone left, she held me in the mourning hall and cried. “Tessa, don’t be afraid. From now on, Mom will protect you and guard everything your father left behind.” Not long after I got home, my mother pushed open my bedroom door. She stood at the entrance without coming in, impatience written all over her face. “Tessa, I’m telling you this now.” “Your father’s things have to go. Whether you want to throw them out or not, they’re going. Don’t make Gary unhappy.” “If you refuse, then don’t call me your mother anymore.” She looked at me and waited two seconds. When I didn’t speak, she turned and left. I stood still for a while, then took the deed from under the book, folded it carefully, and put it into my pocket. At nine the next morning, I arrived at the City Heritage Records Office on time. A woman in her forties received me. “Please wait a moment.” She went into an inner room. Through the glass, I saw her and two others gathering around the deed, examining it with a magnifying glass and occasionally speaking to one another. I waited twenty minutes. When she came out, her expression had changed. “Ms. Hart, congratulations.” She pushed up her glasses. “After preliminary authentication, your deed is real.” “It was issued in 1938, with clear ownership. The property corresponds to a plot in the old downtown district.” My heart missed a beat. “That area was redeveloped in the 1990s. It’s now commercial land.” She paused. “Based on current policy and market valuation, this land is worth approximately six hundred million dollars.” Six hundred million. For a moment, my mind went blank. “Of course,” she continued. “Your father probably told you before that the deed was originally in two matching halves. Both are needed to complete ownership verification.” “The half we received matches yours perfectly.” She slid a photo toward me. 4 In the photo was a yellowed piece of paper. The texture along its torn edge matched mine exactly. “The holder is an elderly gentleman. His last name is Lane. He’s seventy-eight this year.” “His father used to work for the Hart family. This half of the deed was left to him during a later division of family property.” “Mr. Lane’s position is that since the deed is one half each, the six hundred million should also be split in half.” I had already reached an agreement with Mr. Lane. We would handle the paperwork next week. The director of the Heritage Records Office helped me contact a lawyer. Everything would be done through proper legal channels. When I got home that night, no one was there. I opened my bedroom door and froze for two seconds. The thick book on my desk had been moved. I opened the drawer and searched through everything. The deed was gone. The front door sounded. My mother and Gary came in together, carrying groceries. She saw me and paused. “Where’s the deed?” Her eyes flickered. “What deed?” “The one Dad left me.” She set the groceries on the table without looking at me. “That? I had Gary throw it out.” I stood still. “What did you say?” “Threw it out.” She looked up at me, completely justified. “What was the point of keeping that thing? Gary said it brought bad energy into the house and affected our luck.” Gary stood by the door, a faint smile on his lips, not even lifting his eyelids. “Mom.” My voice trembled slightly. “That deed was real. The Heritage Records Office authenticated it. It’s worth six hundred million.” My mother froze. Then she turned to Gary. “Gary, do you believe that? Six hundred million?” “Your daughter is losing her mind.” He shook his head. “Six hundred million? If it were really worth that much, why would anyone tell her? They would have swallowed it themselves.” My mother’s expression slowly changed. She looked at me, conflicted. “Tessa, have you been scammed?” “I haven’t.” “Then you’re telling me six hundred million?” She walked over and stood in front of me. “Gary is right. If it were worth that much, why would anyone tell you? You’re a young woman in your twenties. What do you know?” “Daydreaming all day long.” “The deed is gone. Gary threw it away. Let it go. Pretend this never happened.” I looked into her eyes. “Mom, Dad left that for me.” “Your dad left that for you?” She laughed. “He left it so you could go against me?” Gary sighed from the side. “All right, all right. It’s already gone. What’s the point of arguing?” He came over and tried to pat my shoulder. I dodged. He didn’t care and withdrew his hand. “Tessa, I’m doing this for your own good. There are too many scammers these days. Your mother has had a hard life. Stop tormenting her.” I looked at him. “Where did you throw it?” He paused. “What?” “Where did you throw the deed?” My mother stepped in front of him. “Tessa, what do you mean? Are you suspecting Gary?” I didn’t speak. She stared at me. Her eyes slowly reddened. “I just want to find someone and live a decent life. Why do you have to oppose me?” “That deed is more important than me, is it?” “Your father matters. The deed matters. Only I, your mother, don’t matter.” She turned, pulling Gary toward the bedroom. “Gary, ignore her.” The door closed. I stood in the living room, looking at that door, then took out my phone and dialed 911. “Hello, I need to report a theft. An important item was stolen from my home.”
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