Part 3A Song for the Stolen

Three in the morning.

Mark's phone rang.

It was the owner of the auto repair shop.

"Mark, someone complained you swapped parts on a luxury car. The evidence is solid."

"Don't come in tomorrow. Prepare the compensation money."

I listened to the busy tone on the phone.

My hands gripped the sheets tightly.

Revenge came so fast.

Mark hung up.

In the dark, he didn't speak, just went to the balcony to smoke a cigarette.

The glowing ember seemed to be counting down our time.

Early the next morning.

Mark put on his faded work clothes, pretending nothing happened.

"I'm going to work. I'll bring roast duck tonight."

He smiled honestly, exhaustion hiding in the wrinkles of his eyes.

I knew he was going to beg.

Or look for odd jobs at other shops.

With his leg, he couldn't find a good job.

After Mark left, I sent Lily to daycare.

Then, I got on the bus to the city center.

I was going to end this.

Outside the window, scenery flew by.

When passing the famous music conservatory, my heart spasmed in pain.

Ten years ago.

I looked out the window like this too.

Back then, I held a gold-stamped admission letter.

I was the provincial piano competition champion.

I was Ava, the "genius girl."

My future was bright.

Until that night.

My parents suddenly knelt before me.

That kneel broke my spine.

"Ava, Grandma has late-stage brain cancer. Surgery costs a hundred thousand."

"We don't have money! Selling the house isn't enough!"

"But someone is willing to pay, as long as you... as long as you give up your admission letter."

Give up?

Was that giving up?

It was making me disappear from this world!

It was letting Chloe take my name, take my life, and go to that university!

I refused.

I was a person; I had dreams too.

But Father took out a bottle of pesticide.

He stood by Grandma's sickbed, threatening to pour the poison into her mouth.

"Since we can't afford treatment, let's all die together!"

Mother kowtowed until her face was bloody.

"Ava, she's your own sister! She's weak, can't do heavy work. If you don't help her, she's ruined!"

"You have hands and feet; you can live without college!"

What laughable logic.

To save Grandma.

For this family.

I signed.

I signed the severance of ties, signed the non-disclosure agreement.

That night, my ID was confiscated, and I was put on a bus to a factory in the south.

I pressed against the window, watching Chloe wearing my favorite white dress, smiling under the streetlight.

She took everything from me.

Memories sawed back and forth in my brain like a rusty blade.

It hurt so much I almost suffocated.

The bus arrived.

City Central Hospital.

I got off and took a deep breath.

Cold air rushed into my lungs, making me cough violently.

Following the information Chloe gave, I found the VIP ward.

Through the glass window.

I saw those leech parents.

Father David lay in bed, sallow-faced, on an IV drip.

Mother Sarah was peeling an apple for him.

Chloe sat on the sofa nearby, admiring her well-maintained hands.

What a heartwarming scene.

I pushed the door open.

Bang!

The door hit the wall with a loud crash.

The three people in the room looked over simultaneously.

Seeing me, David's cloudy eyes showed no joy, only calculation.

Like a hungry wolf seeing meat.

"Ava is here?"

Sarah put down the apple, put on a loving mother's face, and rushed over.

"My child, Mom missed you so much!"

"Your dad is dying; he just wants to see you."

She tried to take my hand.

I dodged sideways.

Her hand hung in midair, awkward for a moment, then she wiped tears again.

"Child, still hate Mom and Dad?"

"Didn't we give you that three hundred thousand back then?"

I stood in the center of the ward, looking coldly at this family of actors.

"Mark's job, was that your doing?"

I didn't waste words.

"Get him reinstated, compensate for the loss, or no deal."

Chloe stood up.

She was wearing a Chanel suit today, still noble.

"As long as you agree to the typing and donate a kidney to Dad."

"Forget the job, I'll give you a hundred thousand."

"A hundred thousand is enough for a bottom-feeder like you to spend for a lifetime."

Her tone was contemptuous, like dismissing a beggar.

I stared into Chloe's eyes.

Walked towards her step by step.

"You think I lived well these years with that so-called selling price?"

Chloe frowned, looking innocent.

"Didn't you?"

"Mom and Dad gave you three hundred thousand. You said you wanted to travel the world, didn't want to study because it was too tiring, so I reluctantly went in your place."

"In these ten years, you must have spent all the money, right?"

"Otherwise, why would you be delivering food?"

I froze.

Then, a huge sense of absurdity welled up.

I started laughing.

Laughing until I couldn't stand straight, laughing until tears spurted out.

"Hahahaha..."

"Three hundred thousand? Travel the world?"

I stopped laughing abruptly, grabbing Chloe's wrist.

Those were hands that played piano—white, slender, callous-free.

Then.

I shoved my own hands right in front of her eyes.

Right in front of her exquisite face.

"Open your dog eyes and look!"

"Are these hands that traveled the world?"

Those hands.

Covered in calluses, joints swollen and deformed.

The backs were red and swollen with ulcerated chilblains.

These were hands that turned screws for ten years.

Hands that delivered food for three years.

Hands that washed dishes in winter and moved cement in summer!

Chloe backed away in horror, trying to break free.

"You... what are you doing? So dirty!"

"Dirty?"

I gripped harder.

"There's dirtier."

I turned to look at David feigning death on the bed, and Sarah looking guilty.

"Chloe, ask these good parents."

"Where did that three hundred thousand go back then?"

Chloe looked at her parents.

"Dad, Mom, what's going on?"

Sarah avoided eye contact, daring not look at me.

David turned angry from shame, roaring:

"Why ask! The money is spent!"

I answered for him.

"I'll tell you."

"That night, a hundred thousand was taken by him to pay gambling debts!"

"The remaining two hundred thousand bought you that Steinway piano, hired famous teachers, paved your way!"

Chloe froze.

"Then... then Grandma?"

"Grandma's surgery fee?"

I gritted my teeth, every word dripping blood:

"Grandma didn't use a cent!"

"She died of pain!"

"Because there was no money for surgery, the hospital kicked her out. She died of pain in that leaky shack!"

"And I was locked in a black factory, didn't even see her one last time!"