Mom Picked Her Golden Child

Everyone froze.

Katerina shrieked, hand over her mouth. Chris swore, eyes blown wide.

Dad clutched his chest and sighed. "What is this? How did it get this far? Anya, you know your mom's temper. Just let her have her way."

Katerina chimed in, all shaky and sweet. "Anya, it's just an apartment. It was theirs to start with. Why are you pushing Mom so hard?"

I was shaking with anger. Mom looked smug, like she was flashing her ultimate card—'I'm still your mother.'

Then I felt warmth on the back of my hand.

Pavel had taken it.

He looked at me, steady. "Babe, forget the apartment. Don't fight your mom over this. I'll take care of your dad. He can stay with us."

Tears stung my eyes. I sniffled and nodded. "Fine. I'll give up the apartment. But I want it in writing—me and Katerina. From now on, she takes care of Mom, I take care of Dad. No backing out. No take-backs. Ever."

Before Katerina could say a word, Mom jumped in.

"Perfect! Without you dragging me down, I'll probably live to a hundred!"

Katerina stayed quiet. With that $500K carrot dangling, she wasn't about to push back.

I dropped my gaze, hiding the ice in my eyes.

I remembered that call from last time—Mom in the hospital, Katerina begging for money.

Turns out, Amiraka wasn't all glitz. It was screaming matches, cheating, and drama on loop.

Later, Katerina found out she was just one of many. Chris cut her off, and she crumbled—tried borrowing cash to fly home.

Before I could send anything, I woke up in the past.

Now? Mom's her problem. Let's see how long they last.

***

After the apartments sold, Mom strutted around bragging she was off to Amiraka to "live the good life" with Katerina.

Relatives and neighbors were green with envy. Everyone called her lucky—said she had such a "capable daughter."

As for me? Just a bunch of pity sighs. "Anya's always been the sensible one. Who would've thought the wild one, Katerina, would marry better."

I treated it like background noise and went ahead with renting the unit next door for Dad.

When Mom found out, she lost it—stormed around saying I was unfilial for not letting Dad live with me.

Truth was, Dad was thrilled. A whole place to himself. No nagging. No orders.

When it was time for them to leave, Dad and I went to the airport to see them off.

Mom showed up dressed like some airport socialite, eyes sparkling with dreams of Amiraka. Didn't even look my way.

Dad wiped his eyes. "Call us often. If we can, we'll visit."

Mom threw in a sharp smile. "Well, Anya better start making more money. Or we won't even afford the plane tickets."

Still clinging to that blame—like I was the reason she didn't get shipped to Katerina last time.

I lowered my head. Said nothing.

Let her go live that dream—for real this time.

Dad mumbled, awkward, "Anya's still a good girl. Rich or not, she's our daughter."

My throat tightened. Last time, once Dad went abroad, I never saw him again.

I never found out how it ended for him. Whether he regretted it the way Mom did.

He was kind, sure. But soft. Mom always ran the show.

Even when he wanted to back me up, he never had the guts.

At the gate, Katerina tugged Mom's arm. "Come on. We can always come back later."

Mom beamed, then turned to me. "Look at your sister. That's what money does—go wherever she wants."

Oh? Then why didn't she come back to visit you last time?

I forced a smile and waved. "Mom, I hope you REALLY do have a good life in Amiraka."