Chapter 4The Swap: Raising a Viper in the Nest

My aunt came out of the bathroom.

I selected a clay pot porridge, pretending nothing happened, and handed the phone back to her.

While waiting, I shed tears in front of her:

"My leg wasn't actually broken from a fall. My mom hit me. I hate her!"

"Auntie, before you said you could get me into Mia's high school and pay my tuition. Is that still possible?"

"I can write you an IOU. When I make money, I'll pay you back the tuition."

If she wanted to see me turn against my mom, I would give her what she wanted.

I could use her to escape my mom's control and go to a fully enclosed boarding school.

This was the only solution I could think of right now.

She pulled me into her arms:

"Schooling is no problem, but don't ever talk about paying me back again, or Auntie will be heartbroken."

"As for your mom, she's superstitious... Our family was truly unlucky back then. The fire wasn't even that big at first, but the roof beam suddenly collapsed."

"Sigh~ Let's not talk about the past. Speaking of which, your mom is also a pitiful person. But I totally understand why you resent her. The way she treats you..."

She rambled on, listing all the ways my mom mistreated me, expressing her heartache for me.

But my curiosity about the fire that year was piqued.

The roof beam almost hit my uncle. My dad was crushed when he pushed him away. My uncle ran out, and then the house collapsed...

"Auntie, were you and my mom not inside back then?"

My aunt answered without hesitation:

"Your mom was inside the house too, she ran out with your uncle. I was outside chatting with relatives, holding you and Mia."

I was a bit puzzled.

The old house back then was a single-story structure made of mud and thatch. Even setting aside why the roof beam would fall, it was only about eight inches thick, not impossible to lift.

Couldn't two adults, my uncle and my mom, lift the beam and pull my dad out before the house collapsed?

It sounded like a melodramatic plot from a soap opera.

I wanted to ask my aunt more, but the delivery driver arriving with dinner interrupted me.

Just as we finished eating, my mom walked in with my uncle and Mia.

My aunt immediately darkened her face:

"Sister-in-law, you were too heavy-handed with Chloe this time. No matter how big a mistake a child makes, you don't go breaking their leg."

She couldn't possibly not have guessed that my mom instructed me to say I fell.

And she knew that exposing it wouldn't make my life any easier.

But she still said it.

Causing my uncle to be dissatisfied and reprimand my mom.

My mom's response was matter-of-fact: "Steal a needle as a child, steal gold as an adult." She said it was to teach me a lesson.

Mia covered her mouth and gasped:

"Chloe, what can you even do with eight dollars? Was it necessary to steal?"

The adults followed her lead and criticized me.

They all pretended not to know that the eight dollars they looked down upon meant a week's worth of breakfast for me.

Once they had their fill of scolding, my aunt finally brought up the idea of sponsoring my transfer.

My mom still politely declined.

My uncle, however, shot her a secret glare:

"Sister-in-law, I think it's a good idea for Chloe to board. It'll save her from making you angry every day."

"And don't be embarrassed about the money. Sarah does charity and sponsors impoverished students anyway. One more Chloe is nothing."

My mom, probably remembering that text message, didn't refuse again.

She just didn't let me eat for several days in a row.

When she had nothing better to do, she would pinch and curse me, tossing the same two phrases back and forth:

"Learned how to tattle now, huh? If you don't want to continue atoning for your sins, then get the hell out if you have the guts."

"Mia goes to an elite prep school. Does your worthless life deserve to go there?"

I wasn't going to be as stupid as before.

When I was hungry, I would call my uncle and aunt. My mom wouldn't act too out of line in front of them.

As for the beatings and curses, I was used to them anyway.

It didn't matter.

From time to time, I would intentionally add some fuel to my mom's fire:

"Mom, Aunt Sarah is so capable and rich. No wonder Uncle is so good to her, washing her feet for her every day."

"Mia told me their wedding anniversary is in two weeks. They're going on a trip abroad for a romantic getaway."

As a long-standing "other woman," she truly had deep feelings for my scumbag uncle.

Every time, she would be so angry her face would contort.

But she could only vent her anger on me.

It hurt a bit, but my mood was more refreshed than ever before.