Because I refused to buy my son, who had just graduated from high school, a $70,000 gift, he harbored an intense disdain for me.
On the rooftop, Ethan, with tears welling up, leveled an accusation at me:“After years of enduring poverty with you,all I wanted was a gift to celebrate graduating!”
His live stream attracted a multitude of supporters, generating thousands in revenue.

Yet, I was fatally assaulted by my long-absent ex-husband, who, as I lay dying, proclaimed he was exacting revenge for our son.
“Mom, what gift are you getting me for graduation?”
“All my classmates are receiving gifts. Am I to be the only one left empty-handed, humiliated before everyone?”
I stared,shocked,at my son's impatient face,slowly regaining awareness.
I had been reborn, transported back to the day preceding his final exams.
Observing my silence, Ethan issued his ultimatum: “If I don’t receive a gift to my liking, I won’t sit for the exams tomorrow.”

In my previous life, he had uttered the same words.
Gazing at the defiant teenager, a chill ran through my heart.
When I divorced Henry Walsh, his financial stability had been the decisive factor for Ethan to opt to live with him.
Henry remarried swiftly, but as his business started to crumble, he unloaded Ethan back onto me as if he were unwanted luggage.

Under the influence of that family's toxic habits, Ethan returned a complete stranger - rebellious and brimming with a sense of entitlement.
He complained that our house was too cramped, the food too unappetizing, and his allowance too meager.
He was constantly drawing comparisons between himself and his peers: "My friends are vacationing in Europe. Why am I stuck with local trips?"
"Why do I have to attend these ridiculous tutoring classes? My friends are heading to college abroad after graduation. Why do I have to slave away for a local university?"
"Don't have kids if you're poor. If you can't provide anything, don't expect good grades from me."
He endlessly griped about our modest financial situation, always reminiscing about the lavish life he'd had with his dad, yet he never put in any effort into his studies.
I worked tirelessly day in and day out to make him understand our reality.
My income was considered decent in our small city, but with mortgage payments, tutoring fees, and the need to save for his future, there was very little left for luxuries.
Henry disappeared after abandoning Ethan, never paying a single cent in child support.
In my previous life, I poured all my energy into trying to correct his materialistic tendencies.
But his threat to skip the exams gripped me with fear.
Fearing his impulsiveness, I negotiated, "I need to save for your future, so I can't afford expensive gifts right now. But within reason, I'll get you something. After the exams, we'll pick it out together, okay?"
He smirked dismissively, "I've already made my choice. Since you've agreed in principle, I'll tell you after the exams."
After the exams, he sent me a lengthy wish list: a full suite of Apple products, an extravagant travel package, and designer clothes - the total amounting to $70,000.
Stunned, I suggested that we prioritize the essentials.
He seemed to take note of my unusual willingness to at least consider his demands.
That night, he climbed up to the rooftop, making sure to alert the firefighters and the media for a live - streamed suicide attempt.
He shouted, "Don't have kids if you're broke. You know how pathetic a poor life is?"
"You promised, then you went back on your word. How can someone like you even be a parent?"
It was more than an accusation; it was a harsh verdict.
I begged hysterically, my heart sinking into a pit of icy despair.
The firefighters managed to rescue him just in time, averting a tragedy.
The crowd gradually dispersed after some persuasion. But the video of his live - stream went viral. Netizens echoed Ethan's cries, and the phrase "don't have kids if you're poor" shot to the top of the trending list.