After My Best Friend Betrayed Me

After work, I saw my dad lying in a pool of blood at the back door and immediately called for an ambulance.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

My dad was taken to the ambulance and barely survived, but he was paralyzed from the waist down and needed lifelong medication.

My mom sold all the family property and borrowed from relatives and friends to barely pay the hospital surgery fees.

We could no longer afford the tens of thousands of medical expenses each month.

To get revenge for my dad and to get compensation, I found Chloe, hoping she would help identify the culprit.

But Chloe was unwilling to sue, hoping to keep the peace.

I couldn't understand why those rich bastards had both violated Chloe and hurt my dad.

Why did she, as a victim, have to endure it?

Helpless, I could only repeatedly beg Chloe, hoping she would testify in court.

Chloe did testify under my persistent pleas, but it was false testimony.

In court, she blatantly lied that she had not been raped and had not seen my dad being beaten.

Those rich bastards went unpunished with Chloe's help.

My family was fined thirty thousand dollars for provoking trouble.

After the court ruling, we couldn't even afford rent, and the three of us had to sleep under a bridge.

Without money for medicine, my dad would die!

That day, it poured rain.

My mom and I took turns carrying my paralyzed dad, drenched in rain, kneeling at the Lewis Villa gate.

The three of us knelt, begging Chloe for mercy and a way to live!

Chloe stood at the door, looking down at us with disdain.

"Serves you right. Don't meddle next time," she said.

3

Bang!

The security door closed. No matter how much I pleaded, Chloe never looked at me again.

Chloe called the police, and they drove the three of us away.

After that, my mom and I sought media help and legal aid to sue Chloe for perjury.

The Lewis family was very rich and easily used money to suppress public opinion.

The media found the story uninteresting and were unwilling to help us anymore.

By this time, my dad desperately needed medicine. And we couldn't delay any longer.

Desperate, I chose to drop out of school and work.

My mom and I worked as piece-rate workers in a factory during the day and washed piles of dishes at a food stall at night.

We returned home at dawn and still had to clean the feces and urine off my dad.

Even so, the money we earned was barely enough for my dad's medical expenses.

The doctor told us to buy a wheelchair and take my dad out for walks, which would be good for his health.

But we had already sold everything we could, and we couldn't come up with any more money.

Desperate, my mom chose to embarrass herself.

One day, when I came home from work, I heard heavy breathing from a man in the house.

I pushed open the door and saw my mom lying on the bed, looking at me with terror and shame.

Afterwards, the man threw down a wad of cash and left hurriedly, pulling up his pants.

My house had only one room. The place where my mom entertained clients was separated from my dad's sickbed by just a curtain.

A week later, my mom finally saved enough money to buy my dad a brand-new wheelchair.

With the remaining money, she bought meat from a street vendor.

The three of us sat at the dining table, eating the meat voraciously.