Part 3Cold Cash, Colder Hearts

Standing before that familiar yet foreign door, I took a deep breath.

My fingers trembled as I pressed the doorbell.

The door swung open almost immediately.

Chloe stood there. When she saw it was me, an expression of utter annoyance washed over her face.

She turned her back on me and yelled toward the kitchen. "Mom! Jordan's here."

Her tone was thick with disgust.

She stood blocking the doorway, making no move to let me in.

From the kitchen came the clatter of pots and pans. Mom was busy.

"Oh. Well, let her in, then."

Only then did Chloe reluctantly step aside, leaving just enough gap for me to squeeze through.

I walked into the living room.

Chloe had already stretched back out on the L-shaped sectional, taking up nearly the entire couch.

I could only sit awkwardly on a hard wooden accent stool in the corner.

I felt like an unwelcome panhandler.

A few minutes later, Mom emerged from the kitchen carrying a small bowl.

A delicate, fragrant steam rose from it. It was some kind of high-end herbal soup.

My ravenous stomach immediately began to growl.

"Chloe, honey, I made you some ginseng and chicken soup."

"I let it simmer for three hours. It’s perfect for restorative energy."

"You've been studying so hard, you need to drink this while it’s hot."

Chloe took the bowl, smelling the aroma.

"Mom, you just finished a twelve-hour shift. You shouldn't be cooking for me. You should have this."

"Don't be silly. Mom doesn't need it. You're my precious baby girl. Anything I do for you is worth it."

The two of them began a playful back-and-forth about who should drink the soup.

In the end, they shared it, smiling affectionately at each other. One spoonful for Mom, one for Chloe.

It was a perfectly heartwarming scene of maternal love.

And I sat there like an invisible ghost, three feet away, watching this touching family drama.

I glanced at my phone. The deadline was looming.

"Mom," I started, my voice cracking slightly. "The deadline for graduation dues and AP fees is tomorrow. Can you transfer me the money?"

The moment the words left my mouth, the loving smile vanished from Mom's face.

The warmth was instantly replaced by irritation and icy disgust.

"Look at you. Every time you come here, it’s always for money. You're like a collection agent."

"Besides money, is there anything else in that brain of yours?"

Chloe chimed in from the couch.

"Seriously, Jordan. Do you have to be so materialistic?"

"Mom works so hard, and all you know how to do is hold out your hand."

My fists clenched slowly, my fingernails digging into my palms.

"I'm asking for school fees, not pocket money for a shopping spree," I said, keeping my voice level.

"This is mandatory."

"And besides, it's your legal obligation to support me."

"Obligation?"

Mom let out a cold, sharp laugh.

"I’ve raised you this long. What value have you ever provided to me?"

"All you know how to do is spend money. You're utterly useless."

"A couple hundred bucks for school fees isn't money to you? Do you think my cash grows on trees?"

Hearing those words felt like a physical blow to my heart.

I slowly stood up. My eyes fell on the exquisite white ceramic soup bowl on the table.

There was still half a bowl of that ginseng soup left.

I had walked past a high-end health food store a few days ago and saw the price tag on quality ginseng. Hundreds of dollars.

That single bowl of soup probably cost more than my entire school dues.

She was willing to spend hundreds to give Chloe an energy boost.

But she wouldn't spend a dime to make sure I could graduate.

And she dared to talk to me about cash not "growing on trees"?

What a sick joke.

All the humiliation and grief I’d packed away for years exploded in that single second.

I reached out and grabbed the soup bowl.

"Jordan, what do you think you're doing?"

I didn't answer. I slammed the bowl down onto the hardwood floor.

The sound of ceramic shattering exploded in the quiet apartment.

The broth splashed everywhere.

"Have you lost your mind?"

Mom’s eyes widened, staring at me in disbelief.

Slap!

A resounding blow landed across my left cheek.

A burning stinging sensation immediately radiated across my face.

But I didn't step back. Instead, I looked her straight in the eye.

"Give me the school money."

"You ungrateful little bitch!"

Mom was shaking with rage.

"Over some stupid school fees, you dare to act like an animal in my house?"

I repeated, "I need the school money."

She was utterly enraged by my attitude. Her hand trembling, she grabbed her phone.

Ding. The notification for a Venmo transfer sounded on my phone.

She threw the phone onto the sectional.

"Take the money and get out. Don't waste Chloe's study time."

I checked the Venmo transfer amount.

It was exactly half. A hundred and some change.

"Why is it only half?"

Mom smirked coldly.

"I'm divorced, Jordan, not widowed. The mediation agreement was very clear. Your expenses are split fifty-fifty between me and your father."

"You want the other half? Go find him."

With that, she pointed to the door.

"Get out."

The broken shards of the ceramic bowl glistened coldly on the floor under the lights.

They looked exactly how I felt inside.

Cold. Broken.

Chloe sat on the sectional, watching the whole thing with total indifference.

There was even the faint hint of a mocking smile on her lips.

Fine.

At least I had half the money.

It was a hundred bucks more than I had five minutes ago.

For the rest, I’d have to go find Dad.