When My Parents Charged Me by the Minute for Their Love I Left Chapter 07

When My Parents Charged Me by the Minute for Their Love I Left Chapter 07

On the third day, Ms Anderson sent Dad a post from the school’s anonymous forum.

[Ungrateful Scholarship Candidate Loses Nomination – She Should Face the Consequences.]

There were hundreds of comments beneath it.

Some people called me heartless.

Others accused me of playing the victim.

Someone even posted screenshots of the payments I had made to the parent-teacher conference stand-ins and mocked me for “having the money to hire actors but refusing to acknowledge her own parents.”

Dad read every comment, from the first to the last.

His finger stayed motionless on the screen for a long time.

Then, for the first time, he published a statement through the company’s verified social media page.

[It is true that Madison hired stand-ins to attend her parent-teacher conferences.]

[We had a rule that our daughter was allowed only 180 minutes of family time each month. Every minute beyond that limit was deducted from her living allowance.]

[She did not deceive the school. We were the ones who failed in our duty as her parents.]

Less than ten minutes after the statement was posted, calls from relatives and friends began pouring in.

Gary demanded, “Did you really have to put private family business online?”

Dad gave him only one answer.

“Shut up.”

That afternoon, he and Mom returned to the school.

My locker had not yet been cleared out.

Ms Anderson had locked the textbook with “UNGRATEFUL FRAUD” written across the cover in a cabinet in her office.

When Mom took it out, her hand jerked back the moment her fingers touched the words.

She pulled out a wet wipe and scrubbed hard.

But the black ink only spread further, until the whole cover was smeared grey-black.

Mom lowered her head and began scrubbing at it again and again with her sleeve.

“Why won’t it come off…?”

Ms Anderson stood beside her without offering any comfort.

“Madison tried to wipe it off for a long time that day too.”

Mom’s hand stopped.

The boy from the back row who had mocked me was called into the office.

He kept his head down as he apologised quietly.

“Mrs Parker, I’m sorry. We saw you come to school to stop her, so we thought she must’ve done something

terrible.”

Mom looked up.

“Didn’t she explain?”

The boy shook his head.

“She just sat there. People were having a go at her, and she didn’t say a word.”

“Even after school ended and everyone else had gone, she was still sitting in the classroom on her own.”

Mom pressed her lips tightly together.

She suddenly remembered the note she had left on the refrigerator that evening.

[We’re attending Ashley’s celebration dinner and will be home late.]

That was the day I lost my only scholarship nomination.

Not one of them had asked me about it.

Ms Anderson handed them another document.

It was the family information form I had completed during my first year of high school.

Father’s occupation: Corporate executive.

Mother’s occupation: Corporate executive.

In the section marked Family Relationship, I had written only one word.

[Normal.]

But under Emergency Contact, I had listed Grandma.

After Grandma passed away, I crossed out her name and never added another one.

Mom stared at the line through it.

A tear fell onto the paper.

“Why didn’t she put us down?”

Ms Anderson’s voice was quiet.

“Once, she fainted in PE. I asked if she wanted me to ring her parents. The first thing she said was, ‘What

time is it?”

“Then she said, ‘Never mind. I’ll rest for a bit on my own.”

Dad abruptly turned towards the window.

Someone was running on the sports field outside.

It was as though he suddenly couldn’t breathe.

He reached up and tugged at his tie twice to loosen it.

When they got home that evening, Ashley was waiting for them in the living room.

She placed her amusement park annual pass on the table.

“Uncle Brad, Aunt Jennifer, I’m not going anymore.”

Mom froze.

“Why?”

Ashley lowered her head.

“I always thought that three-hours-a-month rule was just some joke in your family.”

“Then one day, I saw Madison with a high fever, standing outside your bedroom for a long time before going

back to her room on her own.”

Dad’s hand froze.

“When was that?”

“Last winter.”

“She was really unwell. I asked her why she didn’t knock.”

Ashley looked up, her eyes red,

“She said she only had eight minutes left that month.”

No one spoke again.

Dad suddenly got to his feet and walked to my bedroom door.

He raised his hand and knocked twice.

Of course, there was no answer.

But he really did stand there and wait for a long while.