My Mother Sold My Inheritance To Buy Her Stepchildrens Love

My mother was the neighborhood's most celebrated stepmother.

She treated my stepfathers three children better than she ever treated me. It was a well-known fact. Once, when all four of us had the flu, she was so terrified of neighbor gossip that she only gave the medication to them, leaving me to suffer and shake it off on my own.

She would smooth my hair back countless times, her eyes full of a pleading sadness.

Cass, being a stepmother is impossible. I cant slight them, or the whole town will carve up my reputation.

You understand your mother, dont you?

I understood. So many times. And each time, I swallowed the humiliation down to the back of my throat, where it hardened into a stone.

That stone finally cracked when we were caught in a torrential downpour and had to pull over to the side of the highway to avoid a ticket. Just like she always did, Mom told me to get out and wait for the rain to let up.

I stood frozen. I couldnt move, and she knew why. After my stepbrother Garrett hit me while reversing his truck, my leg had been permanently damaged. I couldnt walk for more than half an hour without searing pain.

Moms patience snapped. She yanked me by the arm, dragging me out of the vehicle.

Dont be stubborn, Cass! Try to be reasonable for once!

Find a spot to take cover. Wait for the rain to stop and then hurry home.

I stood paralyzed in the deluge. This house, this life, wasn't what I wanted.

The downpour didn't stop.

The street water had already risen to my knees.

I stumbled again and again into the deep puddles.

The city streetlights cast a blurry, weak glow on the pitch-black night.

Cass?

Cass?

As I fell into the churning water yet again, Momumbrella in handsprinted toward me.

She was always like this.

I couldnt bring myself to fully love her.

But I couldnt bring myself to fully hate her either.

Her small frame looked like a scrap of paper in the wild wind, and she was nearly blown over into the floodwater.

Rain smeared my vision.

It wasn't until she reached my side that her face and voice snapped into clear focus.

She struggled to pull me from the slick, icy water, recognizing the resentment etched on my face. With a familiar, weary sigh, she began her usual lecture.

I know youre upset. But what choice do I have, honey?

Youre my biological daughter. Theyre not. If I show even the slightest bit of unfairness to them, the whole world will know. How am I supposed to live with that judgment?

I know youve suffered. Im so sorry.

Her voice cracked on the last two sentences. It was heavy with the frustration of being misunderstood and the inescapable burdens of a stepmother.

I said nothing. She helped me hobble back to that house.

The dinner table held only scraps and cold leftovers.

Even the ginger tea Mom had made to ward off my cold had been entirely consumed. Worse, they had poured the last bit into the cat's bowl, just to make sure none was left for me.

My two stepsisters, Brielle and Delaney, and my stepbrother, Garrett, never liked me.

To my face, they were vaguely polite, mostly indifferent.

But behind my back, they called me a pathetic leech, a tolerated guest, only fit to be their cleaning ladyless important than the furniture. They didn't particularly like my mother either, but they reveled in all the concessions she made for them.

My stepfather, Malcolm Shaw, sat in the living room watching TV. He didn't spare either of us a glance, only offering a perfunctory, "You're back."

He was always polite to meno fighting, no yelling, no questions asked. He treated me like a distant relative, an acquaintance.

But my mother loved him.

She loved him fiercely. Even through all the compromises and suffering, she saw it as the necessary friction of building a happy family. Her love for him was why shed divorced my biological father, giving up everything and taking me with her, the moment she learned Malcolm's first wife had passed.

She always said Malcolm was her first love.

If not for her parents disapproval, their romance wouldn't have been so tumultuous. Her deep, enduring love for him was the reason she went to such extremes for his three children.

Mom helped me into the bathroom to take a hot shower.

She brought me a glass of hot water. My stomach was rumbling.

I was about to open my mouth and say, Mom, Im starving.

But she spoke first.

Its late, Cass. Drink this water to settle your stomach. Your sister, Delaney, has terrible anxiety and her room is right next to the kitchen.

She cant tolerate the slightest noise. Ill wake up early tomorrow and make breakfast.

The words died on my tongue.

Since becoming a stepmother, she was a master at considering every single person in the house.

Except me.

Her devotion to her role, her fear of being judged, dictated everything.

I had been accepted to a prestigious state university. But Brielle cut off the celebration with a single demand:

None of us went to college. If Cass goes, we each deserve to be compensated for what we missed out on. You owe us all a college fund payout.

Otherwise, well know you, the stepmother, are playing favorites!

It didn't matter that my tuition didnt require Malcolms money. Mom's salary alone was enough to cover my schooling.

But for the sake of fairness, and because she couldn't afford Brielles demand, she came to me weeping, begging:

Cass, youre so smart. Youll make it even without a degree.

You love writing, dont you? Why not try writing your novel full-time? Maybe thats your best path.

That was the first time I truly fought back.

I broke down, screaming until my voice was raw:

They didnt go to college because they werent smart enough to get in!

Why cant I use my own mothers money to go? Even if you wont help, I can take out student loans!

But no matter how much I pleaded, Mom only cried with that same helpless, defeated expression. She even fell to her knees, hitting herself across the face.

That was when I learned Delaneys cat had shredded my acceptance letter.

Mom begged me not to make a scene, pleaded with me not to tear apart the fragile family unity shed fought so hard to build.

I never made it to college.

And not long after, I lost my chance at a future, and I lost my leg.

Even when Garrett, driving without a license, reversed right into me and shattered my leg, she wouldnt let me report it. She was terrified Id make a big deal of it, that Garrett would go to jail, and that her perfect family would crumble.

She threatened to kill herself if I called the police.

She called this family her entire life, claiming Garrett was practically her own flesh and blood. If he went to prison because of me, she said, not only would he hate her, but it would destroy her relationship with Malcolm.

After that final, crushing despair, I realized the absolute truth: she wasn't their stepmother.

She had utterly and completely become mine.

The next day, I woke up with a bad cold and a spiking fever. My limbs were weak and heavy.

Mom briefly checked on me early in the morning.

She hastily put a hot mug of milk and a omelette egg on my nightstand. Seeing how high my fever was, she added a bottle of Advil.

She was in such a rush. So rushed that she didn't even look me in the eye when she spoke.

Cass, Im heading to work now. Try to sleep it off. The fever will break soon. The house is on you.

I was the only "idle" one at home. Since the accident, being disabled meant I couldn't find a suitable job. So, aside from writing my novels, I was in charge of the entire familys cooking, cleaning, and laundry.

Around noon, my phone pinged with messages.

In the family group chat, Delaney messaged first, tagging me:

Hey, little sis. Im craving those stuffed bell peppers tonight.

Five minutes later, Brielle tagged me:

Cassidy, can you make that roasted chicken dish? The one you made last time was actually decent.

Half an hour after that, Garrett tagged me:

Little sis, can you make the pot roast? And throw in a couple of side salads. Thanks. Working hard.

He followed the message with a digital payment. It was always five dollars and an emojia measly amount that was meant to feel like a handout. This time, I knew it would be the same.

I didn't collect the money.

I didn't reply to anyone.

After spending the morning researching urban areas, I booked the cheapest train ticket I could find to Riverton, a city three states away.

The departure date was three mornings from now.

I spent the entire afternoon writing a final, long letter to my mother.

With every word I wrote, the bonds of family pulled at my heart, making my eyes sting with unshed tears.

When night fell, my fever spiked again.

I huddled under my blankets, shivering uncontrollably.

At some point, the front door opened.

A torrent of complaints immediately flooded the small apartment.

Why is it pitch black in here? Is Cass not home?

What time is it? The kitchen is cold and empty. No dinner made.

What is this, a strike? Who managed to piss off the little princess this time?

Mom and Malcolm had returned.

The complaints from the three siblings grew louder and more frantic.

I worked all day! Im exhausted, and I cant even get a hot meal!

What is her problem? If she doesnt want to do it, she should just say so!

Isn't she supposed to be a part of this family? We all have jobs! Its her responsibility. She cant even manage dinner!

Delaneys voice suddenly grew shrill and furious:

The laundry isnt done! The clothes arent washed, not even the delicates! You cant leave underwear sitting that long; its unsanitary! Mom, you need to talk to your daughter! What is she trying to do?

I just bought that new lace thongthirty dollarsand only wore it once. Now how am I supposed to wear it?

Mom, ever the peacemaker, tried to soothe them with her usual soft voice:

Cass didn't do it on purpose. Shes probably not feeling well. I'll go check on her.

Malcolm also offered a performative, conciliatory line:

Alright, everyone, calm down.

Mom hurried into my cramped room.

When she flipped the light switch, the sudden, harsh glare illuminated the dark room.

I was still lying there, semiconscious from the fever.

Cassidy, whats going on? Are you not feeling well?

Beneath her concern, I could hear a definite tone of accusation.

She pulled back the blanket from my head and instinctively reached out to check my temperature.

Youre running a fever again. Did you take the medicine?

Yes, I answered flatly.

Garretts voice carried clearly from the doorway:

Mom, what are we eating tonight? Im starving.

The flicker of worry on Moms face vanished as she rushed to appease him:

What do you want? Ill make it right now.

Brielle grumbled, Its already so late. Well be eating dinner at midnight if you cook now.

Mom quickly offered a placating suggestion: Tell you what. How about we all go out for barbecue? Garrett, didnt you say you were craving brisket? My treat tonight.

The tension in the air evaporated instantly.

They all cheered up, eager to drag Mom out to a restaurant.

Malcolm gave a token gesture of concern:

Cass, are you going to join us?

Delaneys voice was dripping with passive aggression: Shes not feeling well, is she? Sick people usually dont have an appetite. If she wants to go out for barbecue, it means shes faking it.

And so, I was abandoned again.

An outsider. Unsuitable for their family dinner.

My tears, uncooperative, soaked the pillow again.

My mind couldn't help but flash back to ten years ago, before Mom remarried, to the way she loved me then.

She used to hold me in her palm, terrified of dropping me. She kept me so close, afraid I would melt away.

I had to face the reality.

She was no longer just my mother.

They returned after eating their fill. My stomach ached from hunger, and I was curled up beneath my covers.

Mom placed a mug of milk on my nightstand again. Perhaps anticipating my anger, she spoke in a soft, coaxing tone, like one might use for a difficult child: Once youre better, Ill take you out for barbecue too.

It was always wait, wait, wait.

Brielle fed the dried strawberries I bought to the dog; she said shed buy me more next time.

Delaney took the dress I saved my meager earnings to buy and wore it without asking; she said shed buy me a replacement next time.

Garrett took the laptop I bought for my writing and used it for gaming; he promised me a new one next time.

But, Mom, your "next time" was always a hollow lie.

I didnt speak. She reached through the blanket and gently stroked my head.

My own daughter is the best. You always understand me. My Cass, youre so mature.

She paused, sighing with a sense of noble suffering:

Being a stepmother is so hard. Im truly relieved you understand.

But for every ounce of relief you felt, Mom, I felt an equal measure of heartache.

Two days later, my fever finally broke. I felt well enough to move.

Tomorrow, I would be leaving. I looked at the few, old clothes in my closet.

I realized I didn't have much to pack.

It was the weekend, and they were all home. They were in the living room, discussing Garrett's impending wedding.

I didn't join them, but I sensed the heavy atmosphere.

Malcolm was saying, The down payment for the new house is at least sixty thousand. Your mother and I barely have enough saved to cover it.

The ring and the dowry gifts are another forty thousand. You three are siblings, you should pitch in and help.

Brielle spoke up first: I dont have much saved up. I can only manage five thousand.

Delaney reluctantly followed: I only have five thousand, too.

Then, she deliberately raised her voice, directing it toward my room:

Dont we have a writer in the house? Tapping away at her keyboard all day. Im sure shes sitting on plenty of cash.

Her tone was utterly sarcastic. She was the one who previously mocked me, saying my writing income wasn't even enough to pay for my cat food.

Mom, swayed by her words, came into my room, tears welling up in her eyes.

Cass, being a stepmother is hard. I have to help Garrett with his wedding. Youre his sister, and were family.

Could you spare some of your royalty money? We can consider it a loan. Please?

Every time she used my money to bail out the three of them, she called it a loan. She never paid it back.

I dont have much in royalties. Its barely two thousand a month, and its not stable. Its barely enough for me.

Little sis, were family. Stop hiding it. I dont believe you only make two thousand a month. Unless you show us your accounts.

Brielle had materialized, leaning against the door frame.

Malcolm and the others followed, their eyes all fixed on me, judging.

To appease them, Mom looked me in the eye and demanded:

Show me your accounts.

To finally shut them down, I logged into my bank account and my publishing dashboard, showing them the numbers.

Once they confirmed my income was indeed pitifully low, their eyes filled with scorn.

Delaney jeered: You dont have the talent to make a living as a writer. Honestly, youre just dreaming in broad daylight!

Since I was leaving permanently tomorrow, I didnt waste my breath arguing.

They went back to discussing Garretts finances. In the end, Mom and Malcolm decided to take out a twenty-thousand-dollar loan to bridge the gap.

Next was the issue of the wedding jewelry.

Mom went to a cabinet and pulled out the vintage gold bracelet my biological father had left me. She also took out a small, two-ounce gold ingot. My father had given them to me when I was thirteen. Mom had told me I was too young and promised to keep them safe until I was an adult.

But now, she said:

Well take these to be traded for the new jewelry. Gold prices are high right now. Buying them new is too expensive.

A furious heat instantly rose in me. I scrambled forward to grab them back.

Thats what my father left me! You have no right to give my property to him!

Mom was stunned by my reaction and chastised me with an annoyed tone:

Ill buy you new ones later, Cass. Your brothers wedding is an emergency, a huge deal!

She didn't give the gold back, handing it directly to Garrett. She rushed him:

Go trade these now! Hurry!

I lunged to snatch them back, but Mom pinned me down.

Cassidy Jennings, will you please just be sensible!

I completely shattered. All the stored-up resentment erupted into pure rage. I screamed at her through my tears:

You are not their stepmother, Elaine! You are mine!

I hate you. If you give my fathers things to him today, you wont have a daughter anymore!

Mom froze. Then, a heavy slap landed across my cheek, followed by a roar of pure fury:

Get out! Get out and never come back!

I didnt hesitate. I grabbed my laptop bag and limped out the door.

Behind me, I heard her final attempt to control me: If you walk out that door, youre never coming back!

She didn't know: that was exactly my plan.

It took three days for Mom to lose her composure and call my phone.

The only reply was the standard "this number is out of service" message. She instantly panicked.

At that moment, Malcolm rushed into the house, frantic:

Theres a girl hit by a car down at the complex entrance! They cant make out her face, but shes ashes on crutches, and everyone is saying its Cass! You need to go check, right now!