Chapter 1

My dad is the richest man in Los Angeles, but my monthly allowance is only fifty dollars.

My mom always told me that my dad despised me because I was born with a minor physical defect. She said he left a signed divorce agreement and vanished when I was only six years old.

From that day on, I never saw him again. That was until I saw him on the news, splurging a hundred million dollars to buy a luxury skyscraper for his new son.

For all these years, my heart was filled with nothing but hatred. I was his child too. Why did he treat me like trash?

But one day, I ran into my dad's new son. The very first thing he said to me was:

"Where have you been all these years? Dad has been searching everywhere for you."

"Hey, sweetie, your meal card has insufficient funds."

The cafeteria lady, Mrs. Gable, poked her head out after the register beeped loudly.

I froze. I had just realized this month had thirty-one days. The money I saved from my part-time job was only enough to cover thirty.

I offered an awkward smile. "That’s fine, Mrs. Gable. I’m actually on a diet today. Just the plain rice is fine."

Mrs. Gable saw right through my embarrassment. A look of pure pity softened her face.

"Oh, honey, look at you! You’re skin and bones. What diet?"

She sighed, scooped a massive ladle of rich savory gravy, and poured it over my rice.

"Next time you’re short on cash, just whisper to me. I'll slide a chicken drumstick under your tray."

Looking at her kind gesture, my throat tightened.

Why was it that a complete stranger knew how to show me mercy, while my own biological father had never given me a single thought?

My best friend, Price, walked back with his tray. When he saw nothing but plain gravy and rice on my plate, he slammed his fist on the table in frustration.

"I’m telling you, Hart, you need to go to your dad's corporate headquarters and make a scene!"

"The guy is the richest man in LA, and his own son is literally starving to death!"

"I seriously want the world to see what a hypocrite that 'philanthropist' really is behind closed doors!"

I was used to this kind of life, but his words still brought a wave of bitterness to my chest.

If the university didn’t have a free basic pantry for low-income students, I really would have starved by now.

Ever since my parents divorced, my mom had completely fallen apart.

She spent her days drinking herself into a stupor at home, burning through what little savings we had left on cheap gin.

Once, a neighbor couldn’t stand it anymore and tried to intervene.

"Samantha, you can't keep living like this. Your son is so young. You have to pull yourself together and raise him!"

"Look at the boy, he's so thin a gust of wind could blow him away!"

But my mom just slumped on her bed and screamed at the neighbor.

"If it weren't for this mistake of a kid, my husband would have never abandoned me!"

"He was born broken! Even a stray dog would look down on him!"

"You want me to raise him? In his dreams!"

Back then, as a little boy, I didn't understand why she was so angry. But I could read her expression.

The only reason my mom had degenerated into this miserable state was because of me.

If I hadn't been born, or if I had been a perfectly healthy boy, her life would have been beautiful.

During the rare moments my mom was sober, she would show me old photographs.

"Look how much your father loved me back then. He took me traveling all over the country."

"He wouldn't let me lift a finger. He did all the cleaning and dishwashing himself!"

"Even when he worked until midnight, he’d still come home and cook me gourmet meals. He acted like he never knew what tired meant!"

Looking at the happy, loving couple in those faded photos, a seed of guilt was planted deep in my young heart.

This was all my fault. I had to do whatever it took to make it up to her.

Since the moment I was old enough to walk, I did odd chores for neighbors to earn spare change.

They pitied me and often gave me groceries to take home.

That was how I managed to grow up, surviving on the charity of kind neighbors.

Once I got into college, I worked three part-time jobs a day after classes.

But my mom forced me to hand over almost every penny to 'repay' her. I was left with only fifty dollars a month for myself.