Part 1Cold Cash, Colder Hearts

During the divorce, Mom fought for custody of my older sister. Dad fought for my younger brother.

I was the middle child. Nobody fought for me.

They all thought I was a lost cause, but as it turned out, I was the one with the real drive.

After graduation, my sister barely got into community college, and my brother dropped out entirely. I ended up as the state valedictorian with a perfect SAT score.

Suddenly, Dad and Mom were practically throwing punches trying to claim me.

I brushed their hands off my arms and pulled two legal documents out of my backpack.

"A kid who’s been thrown away once doesn't exactly have a high sense of security," I said coldly.

"How about this—"

"Whichever one of you is willing to sign this irrevocable will, leaving every single dime you have to me, gets to be the proud parent of the valedictorian."

* * *

My dad was a cop, and my mom was a trauma surgeon.

To outsiders, they were two successful professionals with glamorous, respectable careers.

But to me, they were just eternally busy.

It got worse after the divorce.

Every time I asked Mom for lunch money or cash for school fees, she was always rushing out the door. "I'm on my way to save a life," she’d snap. "Call your father."

But when I called Dad, he sounded just as exhausted. "I'm in the middle of a manhunt," he’d say. "Go find your mother."

They played this game of hot potato, each convincing themselves the other had already taken care of me.

In reality, I was always hungry.

When things were really tight, I’d buy two dollar-menu breakfast burritos in the morning. That had to last me the entire day.

When my stomach cramped from the hunger, I’d put my head down on my desk and tell myself to just hang on a little longer.

At lunch, when my classmates went to the cafeteria or out for fast food, I always told them I wasn't hungry. Truth was, I just didn't have a cent to my name.

Of course, sometimes I got lucky.

My parents would suddenly remember they had a second daughter at the exact same time, and both would Venmo me money.

But that kind of "luck" followed no logic or schedule.

The hunger was my only constant companion.

Once, after going three days without a single real meal, the world started turning black around the edges.

I called Dad. I called Mom. They both ignored the calls, sending back texts about being "busy."

At that moment, I understood everything completely.

In this world, cash is more reliable than love.

Love can vanish. It can be ignored. It can be forgotten.

But money holds its value.

From that day on, I wanted money. Lots and lots of money.

Enough to buy all the food in the world.

Because if I had that, I would never have to be hungry again.