My Parents Faked Their Deaths to Punish Me

My parents returned quickly—early the next morning, they were home.

Shane, still irritated from their scolding, forced me to sit on the sofa all night. I hadn't slept, my stomach ached, and cold sweat drenched me. I felt utterly drained.

Yet, when my parents arrived, I rose to my feet like a reflex.

In my mind, they had died five years ago. Now, seeing them alive and well at home felt like a dream.

"Lily, do you understand what you did wrong?"

My father's cold words yanked me back to reality.

I froze, my voice hoarse.

"Wrong? What did I do wrong?"

His expression darkened slightly.

"Five years, and you still don't understand how hard it is to earn money? When we faked our deaths and went abroad, it was to teach you—money always runs out, one day there's no more to earn, one day there's nothing left to spend. Now you understand. Good—so we can return home."

A cold shiver ran through me. I spoke with growing emotion, "So in the end, you think I'm dragging you all down? I don't understand… our family's money could last generations. I never squandered it. Why should I be punished like this? Do you know how wronged I feel? These five years, I…"

"Lily, just admit your mistake!" My mother suddenly came forward and gripped my hand, tears in her eyes. "To teach you a lesson, your father hasn't even returned home to visit your grandmother's grave for five years. You've had it hard, we've had it hard—stop being stubborn. If you just admit you're wrong, the punishment ends. Our family…"

"I'm not wrong!" I yelled and yanked my hand free. "You're wrong! It's your ideas! I haven't done anything wrong!"

Before I could react, my brother slapped me across the face.

"Is this how you speak to our parents? Lily, what grievance do you have? What temper is this? These past five years—you think I had it easy? If I hadn't been worried about you, I would have gone abroad with Mom and Dad long ago!"

My mind went blank. My ears buzzed. What he said… I could barely hear it.

I stood there for a long while, then finally resigned, nodding slightly.

"Give me back the 13 thousand dollars you owe me."

It was money I'd earned with my life.

He glanced at me with disdain and made a call. Within moments, someone returned carrying my bundle of cash.

I wiped my tears, shouldered the money, and prepared to leave.

My mother opened her mouth to speak, but my father stopped her.

"Let her go. I want to see where she'll go."

I closed the door behind me, carrying the cash back to the slum.

Just as I pulled out the key to unlock the door, someone grabbed my wrist.

"Young lady, this house has been sold. You can't enter."

"Sold to a Porter?" I didn't even look up.

"Yes. How did you know?"

I let out a bitter laugh and continued walking, carrying the cash.

Two steps later, a sharp pain stabbed my stomach again. I went to a nearby hospital.

While waiting for the results, I went to pay.

But just as I handed over the money, security grabbed me.

My mind spun; I had no strength to struggle.

I heard words like "counterfeit" and "call the police" in a blur.

Soon, the police arrived.

The lead officer frowned at me. "Young lady, this money is fake. Where did you get it?"

In disbelief, I scrambled for my contract and handed it over.

"I don't know! I was hired as a clinical trial volunteer to earn money! Officer, this has nothing to do with me!"

He studied the contract, frowning deeper.

"You've been deceived. This company is a criminal gang. Did they draw your blood?"

My pupils constricted. I nodded mechanically.

The officer sighed.

"The medicine itself isn't the problem, but the needles…"

He couldn't bring himself to continue.

A cold dread filled me.

Just then, the test results came in. The doctor handed them to the officer while saying, "It's a level-three blood disorder. Those fraudsters went too far."

"Ugh—"

I couldn't hold back. I vomited black blood and collapsed, unconscious.

As I closed my eyes, I heard the officer shouting, "Contact her family! Now!"