They Said I Spent 80,000, I Had 800 Chapter 03

They Said I Spent 80,000, I Had 800 Chapter 03

It was the end of the month.

I hadn’t paid back the money I borrowed, and the little left in my account had to last for meals.

I couldn’t bring myself to spend it.

I thought I could tough it out.

On the third morning, I sat up on my dorm bunk and felt something surging up my throat.

I tried to swallow it down, but it surged again until I threw up a mouthful of blood.

My roommate called an ambulance right away.

In the ER, the doctor told me it was stomach bleeding.

“This doesn’t look good—you’ve let it go too long. We need to keep you for observation. Go pay the deposit and the nurses will get you a room.”

My roommate took my phone to reach my family, calling Kaysen first.

He didn’t answer, so she called my parents.

When Mom picked up, her very first words were, “Are you pretending to be sick again? You really will do anything for money!”

My roommate paused. “Mrs. Harding, Oaklee’s throwing up blood. How could she be pretending?”

I took the phone. “Mom, I have stomach bleeding. I’m in the ER.”

Silence hung on the line for a few seconds. “I’ll have Kaysen head over.”

She hung up again.

In the end, my roommate covered the bill.

Two hours later, Kaysen arrived.

He walked in and said directly to the nurse, “She gets paranoid easily. She’s fine. Can she be discharged?”

“She needs to stay for observation,” the nurse replied.

Kaysen glanced down at me. “Why can’t you just take your meds on time?”

I said nothing.

He stayed for less than twenty minutes before his phone rang, a sweet female voice echoing through the speaker.

Then he left.

I opened Instagram and saw his post.

A group photo on a yacht. Kaysen held a champagne glass, his arm wrapped around a woman.

Caption: [Celebrating my baby’s win at the pageant!]

Another account liked the post. The profile picture was a woman.

I clicked it, but the profile was private.

I pressed the phone against my chest and stared at the ceiling.

After four days in the hospital, my parents finally returned from abroad.

I walked all the way home alone.

The front door was unlocked.

As I reached the entryway, I heard Mom’s voice from inside.

“She grew up with nothing. How is she spending more than a girl raised in luxury?”

“At this rate, we won’t be able to keep her.”

A sharp pain clutched my chest.

Dad let out a heavy sigh. “She’s just not the type to ever feel like family.”

I couldn’t hold back the storm inside me anymore.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Since that’s how you feel, just let me go.”

They froze.

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Dad snapped, his temper flaring again.

I took a deep breath. “If you don’t want me, just let me go.”

“Why keep me here, barely scraping by, and then turn around and blame me for it?”

Mom jumped up instantly. “How could you say that!”

“Your dad and I work ourselves to the bone out there to provide for you and your brother—since when have you ever had to scrape by on your own?”

She pressed a hand to her chest, voice sharp with reproach.

“I’m serious,” I said, my nose stinging.

“If you never wanted me, then why bring me back at all? Why give me hope in the first place—just to leave me to fend for myself? I would’ve been better off on my own from the start.”

“You ungrateful brat!”

Dad slapped me across the face.

He panted, his face flushed red.

“What is that supposed to mean—like we’ve been mistreating you? We feed you, we clothe you, we give you everything, and this is what we get in return?”

Mom cried. “You’re our daughter. How could we not want you?”

I touched my stinging cheek, tears spilling over. “Is that so? That’s not how it’s felt.”

Dad pointed a finger at me, his eyes bloodshot.

“What more do you want!”

“We give you eighty thousand a month—and you’re still not happy? Are you trying to drive us to our graves?”

I froze.

“Dad… how much did you say you transferred to me every month?”

“Eighty thousand! I have records for every single one!”

Eighty thousand.

My hand twitched at the figure.

“But I only get eight hundred a month.”