I was lounging on the couch,watching TV,when someone knocked on the door.
Opening it,I saw Ethan and Sarah.
Days ago,he’d fled in fear.Showing up now meant trouble.

Sure enough,Ethan said,“Dad promised me$40,000 for my wedding.He’s dead,so the money’s with you.Hand it over!”
He demanded it like it was his right.
Sarah stood beside him,eyeing me with contempt.
Looking at these beggars,I slapped Ethan twice.
Both Ethan and Sarah were stunned.
Ethan raised his fist,but I slammed the door shut with a thunderous bang,trapping his hand.

His high - pitched, agonized wail reverberated through the hall.
I reopened the door.His arm was red and swollen.
Sarah stepped forward,arms crossed.“Ma’am,what’s this?We’re just claiming what’s ours.Give it now,and we won’t press charges.Keep it,and we’ll call the police.”
She pulled out her phone.

Ethan,clutching his arm,stood behind her,smug.
I leaned on the doorframe.“Call them.Think the police will force me to give you my money?”
Ethan stepped up,jabbing a finger at me.“That’s Dad’s money!Give it!”
“Your dad’s dead.You killed him.Forgot already?”
They kept arguing,unyielding.
I went to the kitchen,grabbed a cleaver,and charged at Ethan’s neck with the cleaver raised high.
They bolted.
Finally,peace.
I heard that Ethan had drained his savings to give Sarah$30,000 for her dowry.
Thinking of his future regret,I laughed out loud.
Ethan’s wedding was scheduled for next month, but he didn’t invite me. Good, because seeing him would only annoy me.
Good.Seeing him would just annoy me.
The wedding came,but it was a farce.
Everyone waited for the bride,but Sarah was gone.
Under Ethan’s pressure,it came out:her“parents”were hired actors.
Guests witnessed the humiliation,whispering as they left.
Ethan went mad,searching for Sarah.
He refused to believe she’d scammed him,insisting she was coerced.
To this day,he hasn’t found her.
Red wine and gossip—perfect match!
While I slept,my door was pounded on.
A voice as grating as nails on a chalkboard pierced my brain, and that was my mom’s.
Unable to stand it,I yanked the door open.
Both were leaning on it and fell to the floor.
They gaped,incredulous.“James actually paid for your treatment?”
I didn’t answer,asking,“What do you want?”
They disgusted me to the core, like walking piles of refuse.
My dad pushed past me,both stepping inside,sighing.
“You’re so rude,keeping us out in this heat,”Mom said.
She looked around,not seeing who she expected.
“Where’s James?”
I sipped coffee.“Dead.”
They gasped,crowding me,stammering,“You killed him?”
They stared,tense.
“Yeah.So,what do you want?”
Admitting it,I watched them step back,scared.
I laughed,shaking.
Seeing my amusement,they knew I was joking.
Their faces soured.
“How’d he die?”they demanded.
“Sick.Now,what do you want?If it’s nothing,leave.You’re not welcome.”
Before,I’d groveled to them.
Now,they disgusted me.
They reverted to their lofty tone.“James promised us$20,000.He’s dead,so you pay.”
Am I a cash machine?Everyone’s after my money.
Seeing their entitlement,I said,“No.Want it?Ask him in hell.”
Mom erupted in anger but,needing money,softened.“You’re his wife.You should pay.When your brother succeeds,you’ll share the glory.”
Woken up and now morally concerned,I snapped.
I grabbed a chair and swung it, sending them scrambling away.
Their hoarse screams filled the room,grating on the nerves.
I didn’t mean to hit them hard,otherwise, they’d have been knocked down.
My dad,trembling,pointed.“Ellen,how dare you!”
I smashed the chair to pieces.
They were terrified.
“Get out, or I’ll grab a knife next!”
They crawled up,muttering,“You owe us!You’ll pay!”
I moved to get a knife,and they vanished.
Since birth,they never loved me.
I bore all their burdens.
I won’t dwell on the past—it’s not worth it.
I treated myself like an orphan.But if they dare show up again,I won’t hold back.
I called a cleaner to tidy the mess and scrub away their filth.
Days later,shocking news came.
My parents’precious son,my brother,was dead.
I felt no sadness,only joy.
Besides my parents,he tormented me plenty.