Part 2A Heart Left Behind

In elementary school, I didn't fully understand what Chloe's illness meant.

I didn't know why my parents were always frowning.

Seeing my desk mate taking oil painting classes, I went home and made a fuss about wanting to learn too.

My mom flat-out refused with a dark expression, and even rolling on the floor throwing a tantrum didn't work.

A week later, Chloe secretly bought me brushes and paints.

I excitedly hugged her, jumping and screaming with joy.

But staying up late writing to earn that money took a toll on her fragile body; she had a severe episode and was hospitalized.

In the hospital, thinking she was going to die, Chloe secretly told me:

"I have a little bit of money left from writing, along with my allowance savings. It's under my pillow."

"Mia, go home and get the money. Buy your own paints from now on."

Thankfully, she pulled through in the end.

And I suddenly grew up.

Later, when the paints Chloe bought ran out, I quietly packed away the supplies and stopped asking for more.

When my mom casually asked about it one day, I sheepishly scratched my head:

"Painting is too hard. I don't want to learn anymore."

Lost in my memories, my mom assumed my silence meant I was feeling guilty, and she pressed her advantage:

"It's time you grew up. Stop running around all day not coming home."

Hearing her words, I felt a sense of helplessness:

"Mom, I really wasn't just out playing. I had things to do."

"Getting checked for that minor issue wouldn't take all day. What could you possibly be doing, going out every single day this week?"

"I..."

I wanted to tell the truth, but seeing Chloe's pale face next to me and remembering she couldn't handle emotional stress, I swallowed the words back down.

My mom seemed to think I had been caught in a lie and grew even angrier:

"I just asked you to stay home and take care of your sister, and you dare make up excuses to slack off and run out."

"Raised you all these years for nothing."

"If it weren't for needing someone to take care of Chloe later on, I never should have had you."

My dad also looked at me with disappointment:

"Mia, when you were little, you used to say you'd grow up and protect your sister. Why are you being so disobedient now?"

"Have you forgotten how good your sister was to you when you were kids?"

Chloe kept her head down; I couldn't see her expression.

I only saw the hand holding her chopsticks clenched tight, the veins on the back of her hand starkly visible.

I opened my mouth to explain, but a knock at the door interrupted me.

My mom got up to answer it. It was our neighbor, Mrs. Gable.

She held up a bag of oranges and gestured:

"Your Mia was standing at the door for a long time just now, and she left something outside when she went in."

"Hurry and grab it, or someone might walk off with it."

My mom's back went rigid. She forced out a few polite pleasantries and sent the neighbor away.

She walked slowly back to the table and sat down, breaking the silence in the room:

"Did you hear what your dad and I were saying? Is that why you were standing at the door?"

I nodded gloomily, not saying a word.

A flash of panic crossed my mom's eyes, quickly replaced by forced composure:

"I just remembered how you insisted on changing jobs last month, got mad, and said some things I didn't mean in the heat of the moment."

I stayed silent, staring at my rice bowl, my mind completely blank.

Seeing my silence, my mom's tone took on an edge of irritation:

"What I said wasn't wrong at all."

"Why couldn't it have been an ungrateful wretch like you who got sick?"

"You want to change jobs because you think we're dragging you down, just to shake us off."

Her words were like a sharp knife plunging into my heart.

I looked at her in disbelief, my lips trembling, unable to make a sound.

After graduating, I listened to my parents and found a job close to home.

The pay was low, but it made it easy to help take care of Chloe.

But this year, her health had been deteriorating rapidly, and the medical bills were piling up.

Seeing my parents so anxious, I wanted to help, but there was nothing I could do.

Until last month, when I received a great job offer. The salary was triple, the prospects were good—the only downside was that it was in another state.

I was ecstatic.

With this job, I could make more money, buy better medication for my sister, and lighten my parents' load.

I never expected my mom to disagree. I was utterly confused and was still trying to explain it to her.

So that's what they were thinking.