Faking Cancer For My Money Enjoy Your Prison Cell!

My mom told me my dad had terminal lung cancer, and his treatment would cost $500,000.

So, I dropped out of middle school and went to work in an illegal, underground sweatshop.

I got paid ten cents for every part I assembled. I worked sixteen hours a day.

For the sake of my dads life, I didnt dare to stop for even a second.

But on my sixteenth birthday, I ran a dangerously high fever. Clutching a ten-dollar bill I had secretly saved, I wanted to slip out to a local clinic.

My mom ripped the bill right out of my hand. "Stop being so dramatic! Just drink some hot water and get back to work. Taking half a day off means losing your attendance bonus!"

So, I dragged my shivering, burning body back to the assembly line.

Until a bank notification popped up on my phone screen:

*Your account ending in 8888 has transferred $50,000 to Hunter. Memo: Down payment for sons new townhouse.*

I froze.

Then, my mind flashed to my dads rosy, healthy cheeks.

And my brother Hunters brand-new truck and expensive Yeezys.

###

My heart went completely, utterly cold.

Late that night, I crawled out of the sweatshops moldy dorm.

An agent stopped me in the alley and asked if I wanted to make real money. Free housing, free meals, and $25,000 a month.

My brain was foggy from the fever, but I still muttered out of instinct, "How much is the agency fee?"

He stared at me, shocked, and said, "No fee. Actually, Ill give you a $300 advance right now."

I took the cash and, without a single shred of hesitation, stepped onto the bus heading toward the border.

I squeezed the three hundred dollars tightly in my hand.

This was the first time in my entire life that I actually held money that belonged to me.

Before this, my paycheck was automatically routed to my moms bank account the second it hit my card.

The bald man sitting next to me, Frank, kept eyeing me up and down with a greasy, creepy smile.

"Hey kid, you look pretty young. Whats a girl like you going to a place across the border for?"

I ignored him, burying the cash deeper into my jacket pocket.

"That place eats people alive," Frank muttered, leaning in. "Once you cross over, your life isn't yours anymore."

I wasn't afraid of dying.

In fact, that place sounded like heaven to me.

Because the agent said they provided free food and housing.

I wouldnt have to drink tap water to fool my stomach just to save fifty cents on a piece of bread.

I wouldnt have to collect plastic bottles in the freezing winter in thin canvas shoes just to buy my brother limited-edition sneakers.

"We're here," the driver barked, slamming on the brakes. The metal door rattled open.

In front of us was a towering barbed-wire fence. A few heavily tattooed men carrying rifles walked toward the bus.

The passengers started panicking. Some cried; some wanted to turn back.

Only I stood up quietly. I was the first one to step off the bus.

The smuggler in charge was a guy with a nasty scar across his face. People called him Scarface Nick.

He gave me a surprised look.

"You aren't scared?"

I shook my head. I flashed the three hundred dollars in my hand and tucked it back.

"I took the money. Ill do the work."

Nick smirked. It was the kind of look a merchant gave to a cheap piece of cargo.

"Great. I love the ones who know their place. Take her to Zone C."

Zone C.

Even though I had never been here, I had heard the whispered rumors on the bus.

That was the holding pen for the "hostages."

If you didnt meet your quota, you were beaten, forced to sell your blood, or worseharvested.

I was shoved into a damp, mold-smelling room.

There were only a few filthy, stained mats on the concrete floor.

A terribly thin girl, Lily, shivered in the corner. She looked at me with terror-filled eyes.

"Run... run while the gate is still open..." she whispered, pointing a trembling finger at a small, half-welded window.

I walked over, looked out at the pitch-black jungle outside, and then shut the window tightly.

I lay down in a corner.

"Im not running."

Why would I go back?

To keep earning medical bills for a father who faked cancer?

To keep buying houses and cars for a brother who did nothing but drain my blood?

To listen to my mother scream at me about how I was a useless, worthless daughter?

My fever was still raging, making my skin burn.

Before my consciousness drifted away, I touched the cheap phone in my pocket.

There was a scheduled text message I had drafted a long time ago but never dared to send.

Now, I could finally send it.

###

Meanwhile, inside the familys newly purchased luxury apartment, the lights were bright.

The dining table was piled high with ordered lobster and premium ribeye steaks.

Hunter chewed on a lobster claw, impatiently tapping the table.

"Mom! When is the rest of the renovation money coming? The designer said we still need ten grand for the custom furniture!"

"Why hasn't Chloe's salary been deposited yet?"

The "Chloe" he was talking about was mehis younger sister, who was currently working herself to the bone in a sweatshop.

My mom, Brenda, wiped the grease from her mouth, her forehead creasing into a deep frown.

She unlocked her phone and checked her banking app.

It was empty.

"That little brat is losing her mind!" Brenda slammed her phone onto the table.

"Today is payday. Her money is usually in my account by now."

"Is she slacking off again? Just because I took ten dollars from her last time, she dares to throw a tantrum?"

Sitting at the head of the table was my dad, Arthur. He looked completely healthy, his face flushed red as he poured himself another glass of expensive Bourbon.

Did he look like someone with terminal lung cancer? Not even close.

He let out a loud burp and waved his hand dismissively.

"Call her! Is she trying to quit?"

"If she doesn't want to work, bring her back and marry her off! The creepy old landlord down the road offered $30,000 for her. That's enough to buy Hunter a private parking space."

Brenda immediately dialed my number.

"The number you have dialed is currently switched off..."

Hearing the automated voice, Brendas temper flared instantly.

"She turned off her phone? How dare she!"

She immediately called the manager of the sweatshopher distant cousin, who was paid to keep an eye on me.

As soon as the call connected, loud machine noises and angry shouting echoed through the speaker.

"Brenda! I was just about to call you!"

"Your girl ran away!"

Brenda froze. Her mind went blank.

"Ran... ran away?"

She looked out the window at the dark night, murmuring, "Its the middle of the night. Where could a young girl go? The streets are so dangerous... what if she runs into bad people?"

"Mom! What the hell are you thinking about?"

Hunter slammed his fork onto the plate, violently cutting off Brendas tiny shred of motherly instinct.

"If she ran away, what about my house renovations? What about my parking spot?"

"If she actually cared about this family, why would she run? Shes just selfish! She wants to keep all her money for herself!"

With that roar, the last bit of worry on Brendas face vanished.

It was replaced by a furious sense of betrayal and panic over losing her cash cow.

Yes. If her daughter ran away, who would pay for her sons lifestyle?

Worry? How much was that worth?

Arthur's face darkened too. He slammed his glass down, a vicious glint in his eyes.

"Find her! We must bring her back!"

"I don't care if she's dead or alive, as long as she's breathing, drag her back to work!"

"If she refuses, we'll pack her off to that landlord immediately. Not a single penny of that thirty thousand can be missing!" Brenda spat, her chest heaving with rage.

She gritted her teeth and dialed 911.

"Dispatcher? I want to report a theft!"

"My daughter stole $50,000 from our home and ran off with some guy!"

"Go arrest her! She's been a thief since she was a kid. She's evil to the core!"

To force the police to act, and to drag back the daughter who dared to escape her cage, she effortlessly threw the filthiest lie onto her own child.

###

At the police station.

Officer Miller, an experienced cop, frowned as he looked at the couple sitting across from him, both dressed in flashy, expensive clothes.

Brenda was still throwing a hysterical fit.

"Officer! Why are you guys so slow?"

"Its been two hours! Why havent you caught that little brat yet?"

"Thats fifty thousand dollars! Thats my husband's life-saving money!"

Arthur chimed in, clutching his chest and coughing weakly.

"Yes... I have terminal lung cancer. I need that money for my surgery..."

Officer Miller threw a folder onto the table with a cold stare.

"Terminal lung cancer?"

"Arthur, this is your medical report from the general hospital last month."

"Aside from a slightly fatty liver and mild high blood pressure, you are as strong as an ox. Your lungs are perfectly clear. Not even a single spot. Care to explain your 'terminal cancer'?"

Arthurs face stiffened, his eyes darting around.

"That... that was a misdiagnosis! The first doctor told me it was cancer..."

"Enough!"

Miller slammed his hand on the desk. The loud bang made Hunter drop his phone.

"We checked Chloes bank statements."

"Every single payday, her entire check was instantly transferred to an account under the name of Hunter. Is this what you call 'theft'?"

"Also, we just raided that illegal sweatshop."

Miller turned his screen around, showing several shocking photos.

A dark, damp workshop, piles of heavy metal parts, and a wooden cot with nothing but a thin, torn sheet.

On the small crate next to the bed sat a half-eaten jar of cheap pickles and a pack of the cheapest painkillers.

"This is where your daughter lived?"

"Her coworkers said she worked sixteen hours a day. She didn't even dare to take a sick day when she had a 104-degree fever."

"Because she believed her dad was dying and needed the money."

Millers voice shook with suppressed fury.

"You took the blood money she earned with her life to eat steaks, buy luxury apartments, and drive trucks."

"Yet you lied to her that her father had a terminal illness just to force her to slave away for you?"

"Are you people even human?!"

The interrogation room fell dead silent.

A young female cop standing next to Miller, Officer Avery, had red eyes, glaring at the three of them with pure disgust.

Brendas face flushed red, then turned pale.

But she quickly raised her chin defensively.

"So what? Im her mother! I gave birth to her and raised her. She owes me!"

"Besides, we only lied to give her some motivation to work hard!"

"Young people today are lazy. If you don't push them, they'll never know their potential!"

Hunter muttered under his breath, "Exactly. I'm the son, the one who carries the family name. It's her duty to support me."

"Officer, stop lecturing us and just find her. Since she left, there's no one to clean the house."

Millers hands were shaking with rage.

He had been a cop for twenty years. He had seen bad people, but he had never seen parents this vile.

Just then, a tech officer burst into the room, his face completely pale.

"Captain! We tracked her!"

"Chloe's phone signal pinged one last time near the southern border!"

"And... the border patrol cameras caught the bus she boarded last night."

"It belongs to Scarface Nick. He's a notorious cartel smuggler who takes captives to the lawless compounds across the border!"

"What?!"

Miller stood up so fast his chair screeched against the floor.

Brenda and Arthur looked completely clueless.

"Across the border? Like a vacation? How did that brat have money for a trip?"

Hunter, however, realized what it meant. His face drained of all color.

He spent all his time online. He knew exactly what those cartel compounds were.

"Mom... thats... thats where they run scams and harvest organs..."

"Once you go in, you never come out."

Brenda froze, the color slowly leaving her face.

"Har... harvest what?" she stammered.

"But... people die there! Why would she go to a place like that..."

Terror washed over her, but then she shrieked, "That stupid girl! She must have been blinded by the high pay they promised! She got scammed! What does that have to do with me?"

"I gave her food and clothes! She walked into that hellhole herself! She's doing this to punish us! Even if she dies out there, she brought it on herself!"

###

Arthur panicked too. He gripped the edge of the table, his lips trembling.

"Officer, you must have made a mistake. Shes usually too scared to even walk down a dark street. How could she cross the border? What if... what if she really doesn't come back..."

But he quickly straightened his back, coughing to cover his fear.

"Hmph! Maybe a little suffering will do her some good! Kids today think they're so tough. Once she gets beaten up out there, shell realize how good she had it at home!"

"I bet she went to that dangerous place on purpose just to scare us and make us beg her to come back! No way!"

...

In the briefing room of the Border Police Station.

The atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.

The family had been brought here overnight.

Officer Miller threw a freshly intercepted video onto the table in front of them.

"Take a look."

"This was sent by an informant across the border. It shows the group of captives smuggled in yesterday."

The video was blurry and shaky.

The background showed a dark, thick jungle and armed guards holding rifles.

A group of exhausted, thin people were being forced off a truck like cattle.

In the corner, a small, frail figure stood out.

She was wearing a faded school hoodie, clutching a small bottle of water.

Though her face was blurry, Brenda recognized her instantly.

It was Chloe.

The daughter who always kept her head down at home and never dared to speak loudly.

In the video, a muscular guard was whipping a man who walked too slowly.

The sound of the whip hitting bare skin made everyone in the room shudder.

"Officer! Can... can you still save her?"

Arthur finally lost his composure.

"I don't need the treatment anymore... I don't want the money! Just bring her back to work on the farm! That place looks like a death trap!"

Miller looked at him with sheer disgust.

"Save her? That is a lawless wasteland controlled by ruthless cartel syndicates."

"Going in there is a death sentence."

"And according to our intel, this batch of people was bought to be 'blood bags' and 'donors'."

"Donors?" Hunter squeaked.

"Living organ donors," Officer Avery added coldly.

"They drain your blood, take your corneas, and harvest your organs until there's nothing left of you. That is the place you forced her into."

"She literally sold herself to raise the surgery money for a father who faked cancer."

"According to the smuggler we arrested, right before she crossed, she was still asking if she could get a $50,000 advance on her salary."

"Because her mother told her that her dads surgery was still $50,000 short."

At that moment, the last bit of color drained from the family's faces.

Brenda slumped into her chair, her lips shivering.

"I... I just said that randomly..."

"I just wanted her to make more money... I didn't want her to die!"

Suddenly, Brenda lunged forward, grabbing Millers sleeve so hard her nails tore into the fabric. She screamed hysterically:

"Officer! You're a cop! You have to save her! She went there to save her fathers life! We lied to her... we ruined her!"

"Please, go save her! If you're too late... Chloe will be gone forever!"

Miller coldly pushed her hand away.

"You're crying now? It's too late."

*Ding.*

Suddenly, Brendas phone lit up on the table.

A scheduled text message from Chloe popped up on the screen:

*Mom, the boss gave me an advance of $50,000. Dad can have his surgery now. Don't worry about me.*

Those few words felt like a red-hot iron branding Brendas eyes.

She shrieked in pain, and the phone clattered to the floor.

Arthur stared at the message, then raised his hand and slammed a hard slap across his own face, letting out a guttural, animal-like sob.

Just then, the border patrol radio crackled to life.

Through the static, a tense voice came through.

"Report! We have an update from the border!"

"The cartel compound's weapons depot just exploded!"

"It triggered a massive chain of explosions and a raging fire! The entire compound is swallowed in flames!"

"No survivors!"

"While clearing the perimeter, we recovered a charred backpack."

"Inside was an ID card. The name is... Chloe."