Scars Written by Love

As the long-lost daughter of a wealthy family, I returned to my biological parents, only to watch their company collapse.

Overwhelmed by massive debts, my dad jumped to his death.

My brother was left crippled by vengeful creditors.

My mother, unraveled, would one moment tear at my hair, cursing my existence, and the next, cling to me, sobbing and vowing to cherish me.

To save them, I shredded my college acceptance letter and took every job I could find.

When my brother's condition worsened, I auctioned off my virginity to fund his surgery. But when I arrived at the hospital with the money, I overheard their conversation.

"Kathy works day and night to earn money. I don't think she is after our fortune," said my mom. "She dropped out of college and ruined her future for us. Maybe we should stop this."

My brother, supposedly half-paralyzed, stood by the window in a crisp suit. He shrugged. "She chose to skip college and work like that. What's it got to do with us?"

My "dead" father broke his silence. "We need to be careful. People like her are like leeches. Once they latch on, you can't shake them off. Let's keep watching."

I listened quietly, tossing the pendant they had given me into the trash.

I had repaid the debt of my birth, and now, we were done.

My brother's condition worsened.

With no options left, I auctioned my virginity to raise money for his treatment.

But when I arrived at the hospital with cash, I heard his voice, strong and clear, from outside the ward.

"She grew up in an orphanage, where money means more than life," Andre Deleon scoffed. "If we don't test her thoroughly, how do we know she's not after our fortune?"

I listened, reeling from my brother's words.

He lounged on a sofa, radiant in a designer suit, no trace of the frail patient he'd played for months. A loan shark stood nearby, handing him the cash I'd bled for. "Here's the three million from her auction. Keep up the act?"

Andre set his wine glass down. "Keep going. This is just pocket change for a bottle of wine. It doesn't prove her loyalty. I just dropped 30 million on a sports car for Natalie. This will soften the blow."

The loan shark hesitated, realizing Andre meant to jack up the interest. "But she seems..."

Natalie Deleon, the fake daughter, clung to Andre's arm. "You heard him. This little money proves nothing. Selling her chastity? She's a leech. We can't trust her."

My chest tightened, a familiar ache clawing at my heart. I fumbled for my pills, swallowing them dry, and braced against the wall.

I'd abandoned my dreams, rejected an Ivy League school, and worked until my hands were cracked and bleeding. For what? A lie!

My phone buzzed. Andre's name flashed on the screen. "Kathy, the hospital's demanding payment again."

My voice came out hoarse, barely holding together. "I'm out of money."

His tone sharpened, edged with irritation. "No way! You work ten jobs. I saw you buy a pancake last week."

So, he knew how hard I had been working. That pancake was my lifeline after a blood sugar crash, a rare moment I hadn't starved myself to save every cent for him.

He paused, softening. "I know you see me as a burden. I'll get discharged now."

Fighting back my bitterness, I transferred him my last $1,200. "This is all I have left."

It was the final thread of our bond, severed.

I grabbed my bag and turned to leave, but laughter from the ward drilled into my ears.

"Is she kidding?" Natalie scoffed. "Unless she coughs up 50 grand for my new necklace, she is just playing us."

Andre called me again. "The doctor says Mom's condition could improve, but the medicine is costly."

I broke down, covering my face as I slid down the wall. Tears streamed through my fingers.

"I really don't have anything left," I croaked.

"What about that locket you have?" he pressed.

My heart stuttered. "That's from the orphanage director."

For this family, I'd given everything.

When creditors came, I shielded Evelyn Deleon and Andre, ending up with a broken arm, unable to play the piano ever again.

I thought it was fine as long as they loved me, but it was all a lie. And now they wanted my last keepsake.

Tears landed on my wounds, causing a dense, searing pain.

I steadied myself and said, "It's a cheap fake. It's worthless."

The locket was handcrafted by the orphanage director for my first birthday. It was my only tie to her. I'd never let them ruin it.

Andre's voice dropped, laced with barely restrained anger. "What, is Mom not as important as some junk locket? You know what happens if her condition worsens."

"I know." I cut him off, my voice cracking as I crouched on the floor. "No one knows better than me when she loses it."

My old scars burned as I recalled it.

Like a volatile child, she'd speak kindly one moment, and the next, brand me with a hot poker.

The smell of scorched flesh haunted my nightmares.

Andre fell silent, knowing how diligently I had cared for Evelyn, but a moment later, he hardened again. "I got it, you don't want her to get better."

The call ended, the dial tone a hollow echo. I knew he was waiting for my apology.

They just wouldn't stop until they'd drained me dry. But I was done with their game.