Part 3The Final Semester: 800,000 Reasons to Leave Home

I tucked my mom's photo into my jacket pocket, grabbed my ID, and walked out the door.

Brenda watched me, nudging my dad.

"Why are you arguing with the kid? Her biological mother passed away early; it's normal for her to have a bit of a temper."

"Harper, come eat. The food is getting cold."

I looked at the meager leftovers on the table and shot her a look of pure contempt.

"What exactly are you expecting me to eat?"

My dad, having eaten his fill, was currently fiddling with his expensive tea set.

"There's still food left. You should be grateful you have anything to eat at all. Don't be ungrateful."

"Oh, and when you're done, wash the dishes and wipe the table clean."

I turned around and walked toward the front door.

Behind me, my dad's roaring voice echoed.

"You ungrateful brat! Are you trying to climb over my head now?!"

"If you think you're so tough, then once you walk out that door, don't ever come back!"

Followed by Brenda's slow, measured voice.

"Where is she going at this hour?"

"Maybe you should go check on her. Kids these days are sensitive. What if she runs away?"

"Good riddance if she doesn't come back! She's 18 now anyway. I have zero legal obligation to keep supporting her!"

I walked faster, their voices fading into the distance.

I arrived at the local Chase Bank branch.

The bank teller who assisted me was incredibly polite.

She informed me that I had a principal balance of $800,000, and the accumulated interest over ten years was approximately $128,000.

Right now, the account ending in 1234 held a grand total of $928,000.

I stood there, completely stunned.

The teller handed me a sealed package.

"Ms. Evelyn Davis left this in a safety deposit box ten years ago. She instructed us to give it to you when you came in."

My hands were shaking.

Inside was a letter, a key, and a property deed.

I unfolded the yellowed piece of paper:

To my precious 18-year-old Harper,

How are you doing right now?

I am so sorry, Mommy couldn't be there to watch you grow up.

Before Mommy leaves, you are the only thing I can't bear to let go of.

The money in this account and this apartment are Mommy's coming-of-age gifts to you.

If you are doing well right now, that's wonderful. This gift is just the icing on the cake.

If you are facing hardships right now, don't be afraid. You still have Mommy. Mommy will always protect you from behind the scenes.

You probably know about your dad's affairs by now, so I won't mention it.

I will love you forever.

Mommy.

2016.

I read those few short lines over and over again.

Without me realizing it, the paper was soaked with tears.

My mom had known about my dad and Brenda the entire time.

Ten years later, I finally understood the irremovable sorrow that had always lingered on her face.

I finally understood why my mom refused to tell my dad how much savings she had before she died.

I finally understood why she spat in his face.

Now, it all made sense.

My mom left everything to me.

Ten years ago, she had prepared all of this for me.

I tucked the letter into my jacket pocket, keeping it safe right next to her photo.

I looked at the $928,000 balance on the account statement.

Suddenly, I thought of how my dad had cursed and complained for all these years.

After my mom died, he tore the house apart searching for money.

But he found absolutely nothing.

He took all his hatred for my mom and took it out on me.

He even suspected my mom had an affair and gave the money to another man.

He slandered her name for ten years.

But he was the one who destroyed our family.

The scabbed-over burn blisters on my arm itched a little. I scratched them gently.

And then, I clenched my fists tight.

This money was left to me by my mom. Nobody else was going to touch a single cent of it.