Chapter 4

My family walked into a beautiful house I had never seen before.

Behind the floor-to-ceiling glass sat a boy about my own age.

He wore silk pajamas, dropped himself lazily onto the bench of a Steinway, and played a few bars.

My parents' eyes were full of pride, and Eunice wore a look of approval I had never once seen her give me.

I used to not understand why, when we were both supposed to be poor kids, Eunice always looked down on me from some higher place. Once she let it slip: "You can't even play the piano?"

I'd stared at her then, stunned, since we couldn't even afford a keyboard.

Now I understood all of it.

Because she really did have a little brother who could play the piano.

Mom took a box out of a gift bag. Inside was a pair of sneakers, and the floating notifications on my screen told me they were worth around a hundred thousand.

My mother's eyes were tender as she pinched the boy's cheek. "Happy birthday, little birthday boy."

Eunice elbowed Mom aside and held out a set of car keys to the boy like she was presenting a treasure. "Luke Wiley, that car you've always wanted, it's only two million. You deserve it."

Luke shrieked and threw his arms around Eunice. "Sis, you're the best sister in the whole world."

I looked at everything inside that room, my eyes slowly burning, my chest so tight I couldn't breathe.

Two million? That was a number I had always thought belonged to another universe.

The early stage of my stomach cancer treatment cost only two hundred thousand, and I still hadn't dared tell my family.

I was afraid of dealing our already destitute home a more fatal blow.

But it turned out all of it was fake.

I gagged. The cramping pain in my stomach reminded me I didn't have much time left.

Through the glass and the white gauze curtains lifting in the wind, I watched my father pull a velvet box from his pocket.

He opened it. A green-dial Rolex Submariner lay inside. He handed it to Luke. "The poor play with cars, the rich play with watches. Dad's getting you a Rolex."

Luke shook my father's hand off in distaste. "Dad, you're so tacky. Who gives a Rolex for a coming-of-age gift? If not a Vacheron Constantin, it should at least be a Jaeger-LeCoultre!"

My father flushed red under the scolding, and quickly coaxed him with one soft "good boy" after another until Luke let him fasten it on.

I stood there dazed, staring at that famous watch like a thief peeping in on someone else's happiness.

My bare wrist had once had a watch too.

My parents gave it to me on my coming-of-age day. I was so excited I didn't sleep all night.

They'd said, "Every boy needs a watch. We can't afford an expensive one, but a few-hundred-dollar watch we can still manage."

I'd cried right then, moved to tears.

But the next day, they told me my sister's legs had gotten worse and there was no money for her medicine.

I hesitated for only a second before handing over the watch I'd worn for a single day.

Back then, along with the tenderness in my parents' eyes, there had been smugness.

My watch. My rabbit.

In their eyes, they were nothing but tests of how much I loved my family.

My parents told Luke to go change into his formal clothes and get ready for tonight's banquet.

They walked from the villa out into the garden, and I quickly slipped into the flower beds to hide.

"More than a decade of hardship wasn't wasted on Benjamin. The boy's learned to think of his family. That rabbit the other day, I heard him cry his heart out and he still didn't make a scene."

My father finished, but my mother didn't quite agree. "I always feel that boy carries too much inside him. Let's test him a while longer!"

Eunice nodded too. "Benjamin's always been a bit small-minded. Let's wait until he graduates college, then we'll tell him!"

"That's right. We'll just have to suffer through playing poor a few more years. But for the child, it's all worth it."

In three sentences, they extended my testing period.

I clutched my aching stomach, drowning in bitterness and hatred. But Mom, Dad, I don't have time to wait for you.

"And that boy is a little too cold-blooded."

My mother's voice carried displeasure. "A rabbit he raised for a whole year, and one good cry and it's like he's forgotten it."

"Last time Luke saw someone gutting a fish, he came home and cried for ages. So kindhearted!"

Listening to my mother, I nearly couldn't hold back the sound of my crying.

But my kindness was built on their testing.

They wanted me to be kind, and they wanted me to love my family.

Only after Luke called them away did I dare to cry out loud.

The sky slowly began to drizzle, the rain mixing with my tears and washing down my face.

By the time the Wiley banquet began, the sky had opened into a downpour.

Inside, glasses clinked, everyone polished and glowing, a sharp contrast to me, soaked through outside.

My parents and Eunice were leading Luke around, introducing him to one person after another.

At the center of the party sat a cake a full half a person tall.

My own coming-of-age day, in that cramped little room, had been a cheap cream-filled roll with a candle stuck in it while I made a wish.

I looked at that cake in front of me, half a person tall, then at the dazzling spread of imported food.

I closed my eyes in despair. All the suffering and hardship of these past ten-odd years felt, in that moment, like a joke.

The rain came harder. I gripped the hem of my shirt, drenched and wretched.

I watched that bright, glowing Luke, and the inferiority and hatred inside me grew wild like weeds.

Trembling, I pulled out my old push-button phone and first took a few photos.

Then I placed a call. Choking on my words, I asked, "Lee, could you adopt me?"