Chapter 1

The first blind-box set I designed sold out, and I got three million as my cut.

Mom threw a celebration dinner and set out nine family blind boxes in the living room.

"Everyone in this family pitched in, so today we split the money by luck of the draw."

My sister opened the first one.

【Eight hundred thousand, to pay off Amy Sullivan's mortgage.】

My brother opened the second.

【One point eight million, to open Ian Sullivan's shop.】

Mom and Dad opened the third.

【Four hundred thousand, retirement travel.】

Three million, and nothing left.

My turn.

【Catherine Sullivan quits her job, comes home, and takes care of her parents for the rest of their lives.】

The whole family clapped.

Amy hugged me, smiling.

"You've got talent. You can always make more."

Ian waved the card in his hand.

"Cat, family matters more than money."

I picked up the box in front of him.

"If it's all luck of the draw, then let's trade."

Mom slapped my hand away.

"No trading!"

I looked at her.

"Why?"

She clutched the box to her chest.

"Because this one was never yours to begin with."

...

I pulled my hand back.

"If you can't trade, how is it a blind box?"

Dad's face darkened.

"Today is your celebration, not a chance for you to interrogate your parents."

I looked at the cards on the table.

"You take my three million to throw a party, then split the money among yourselves?"

Amy held her box tighter.

"What do you mean, split it among ourselves?"

"Your brother-in-law's business is bad. I pay the mortgage on my own."

"This eight hundred thousand just gets me through a rough patch."

Ian slipped his card into his pocket too.

"I'm opening a trendy toy shop. From now on I'll sell nothing but your work, Cat."

"It's not like the one point eight million went to a stranger."

I looked at him.

"Who said you could sell my work?"

Ian laughed.

"We're family. Why are we even talking about permission?"

Mom pulled out a sheet of paper.

The three million was already divided.

Eight hundred thousand for Amy.

One point eight million for Ian.

Four hundred thousand for Mom and Dad.

Every bank account number was filled in.

At the bottom was a space left for my signature.

"Sign it, and go to the bank tomorrow to make the transfers."

Mom held the pen out to me.

"So the family doesn't fall out over money."

I didn't take it.

"This money is my cut from my own work."

Dad set his teacup down hard.

"Without us raising you, what could you ever have drawn?"

"You think paintbrushes were free when you were little?"

"You think college tuition was free?"

Amy's eyes went red too.

"Catherine, do you really think the family never helped you?"

"That old computer of mine before I got married, didn't I leave it for you?"

That computer took half an hour just to boot up.

She only dumped it on me because she couldn't sell it secondhand.

Later I pulled all-nighters on freelance jobs and bought my first new computer myself.

But Mom kept telling everyone:

Amy gave her little sister the best computer, and that's how Catherine got where she is today.

Ian rapped his knuckles on the table.

"Cat, don't just keep track of what everyone owes you. Family can't be counted down to the last cent."

"Then hand your one point eight million over to your sister."

He shut up at once.

Amy clutched her box tighter too.

Mom glared at me.

"You know perfectly well they're all struggling, and you're deliberately stirring things up."

"You've got three million. You can make more next year."

"If they miss this chance, they might never turn their lives around."

I pointed at my own card.

"They take the money, so why am I the one who has to quit my job?"

Mom sighed.

"Your father and I are getting old."

"Your sister has a family."

"Your brother needs to open his shop."

"You're the only one who's free."

"I'm not free."

"The company built me a studio. There's a new project at the end of the year."

Dad sneered.

"You draw a few little toys and think you're somebody? The company runs just fine without you."

"But if your parents don't have you, who's going to look after us?"

My chest ached, tight with it.

Back when I made no money, they said painting was a dead end.

Now that I make money, they say anyone can paint.

My success could be split.

My job could be thrown away.

Only their mortgage, their shop, and their old age were allowed to suffer nothing.

Mom pushed the pen into my hand.

"Transfer the money first."

"We'll open the rest of the boxes after dinner."

I put the pen down.

"I'm not signing until I've seen them all."

Dad stood up.

"Catherine, don't push your luck."

"Every relative knows today we threw you a celebration dinner."

"If you make a scene and humiliate this whole family, don't ever come through that door again."

Amy grabbed his arm.

"Dad, don't be angry."

She turned to talk me down.

"It's just a family game."

"You do whatever you draw. Don't ruin everyone's fun."

"A minute ago you said the boxes couldn't be traded. Now it's just a game?"

Her face froze.

Ian opened the cake. My name wasn't on it.

Just eight words:【One Family, One Heart, Sharing the Success】

Mom picked up her phone.

"Everyone come over for a photo."

Amy stood behind the eight-hundred-thousand card.

Ian held up his one point eight million.

Mom and Dad held their retirement travel card.

Only in front of me sat the resignation and lifelong caretaking.

The shutter clicked.

They smiled like they'd really won a prize.

While the cake was being cut, the leftover boxes were shoved against the wall.

I bent down to pick up a box that had fallen to the floor. There was a red dot on the bottom.

Then I turned over the few we'd already opened.

The bottom of Amy's was a blue dot.

Ian's was a black dot.

The bottom of mine was a red dot too.

The remaining five boxes were marked the same way.

Two red, two black, one blue.

While Mom was handing out cake, I switched the positions of the red box and the black box.

Amy came back carrying a plate.

She glanced once at the bottoms and instantly swapped the two boxes back.

The move was practiced, without the slightest pause.

I watched her.

She'd known all along.

Which of these nine blind boxes belonged to whom.