The Slap Price: My Mother Sold My Future

3: 3

3.

The paper never made it into my hands.

Nancy bent down, picked it up, and tore it into pieces in seconds, then dropped them in the hallway trash can.

"A photocopy? Who do you think that's going to scare? If you've really got the nerve, go sue me."

Grandma's lips trembled with rage.

"Nancy, you'll pay for this someday."

"Pay for it?"

Nancy pointed at her own face.

"I was a widow at thirty. I worked all day and ran a stall at night, and I raised a daughter who got into a top university. And you're telling me I'll pay for it? If there were any justice in heaven, it should bring Joseph back to raise her himself!"

The line landed hard enough that no one could say a word.

My father's name was like an old scar, and she'd ripped it open in front of everyone.

Warren's mother hurried out and grabbed Nancy's arm.

"All right, all right, the guests are all inside."

Nancy shook her off and turned to look at me.

"Zoe Fox, if you walk out of here with her today, you won't see a cent from me for tuition or living expenses ever again."

Grandma said at once,

"Grandma will provide for you."

Nancy laughed out loud.

"Provide with what? That little welfare check of yours? Or by selling the old date trees in the yard?"

Grandma opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Reality hurt worse than a slap.

Tuition, room and board, travel costs. Any one of them could break an old woman's back.

In the end, I still went home with Nancy.

No one spoke in the car.

Warren was driving. He watched me in the rearview mirror.

"Cousin, don't blame your aunt. She's doing this for your own good. A girl with too much money in her hands out there, she picks up bad habits."

Nancy leaned back against the seat, worn out, but her voice was cold.

"Warren, once she's at school, keep an eye on her for me."

"Don't worry. I've got a high school buddy who runs a shop right near her campus."

It felt like a wad of wet cotton had been stuffed into my chest.

Once we got home, Nancy locked my ID, the household papers, and my college acceptance letter into the nightstand.

"I'll take you when the semester starts. Don't get any ideas about going on your own."

"The student loan needs my student ID and documents."

"I know."

She hung the key around her neck.

"Borrow as much as the loan allows. Whatever's left over stays here for the household. You're just a student. You won't be spending much."

In the bathroom mirror, my face was swollen past recognition.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Grandma:

"Zoe, Grandma failed you. That paper wasn't the only copy. Grandma will keep looking."

Before I could reply, the door was pushed open.

Nancy stood in the doorway.

"Who's messaging you?"

"A classmate."

She held out her hand.

"Give me the phone."

The screen was still lit.

My fingertip had just touched the delete key when she snatched it away.

The message reflected in her eyes.

The next second, the phone slammed into the wall, the screen cracking into a spiderweb.

"I told you, no contact with that old bag."

The plastic casing bounced to my feet.

Nancy grabbed the backpack off the bed and dumped everything out of it, the exam admission slip, all the award certificates.

"If you've really got any pride, then don't spend a single cent of my money."

The lock fell shut with a click.

Outside, down below, a dog barked twice.

Inside the nightstand, one corner of the acceptance letter's red cover showed through the gap.