Chapter 1Bleeding To Save My Mothers Soul

When my mom divorced my gambling-addict father, she didn’t hesitate for a second. she took my younger brother, Justin, and left me behind in the wreckage.

The thing is, I could see the Truth. Above her head, a floating translucent bar—a "Favorability Meter"—glowed a steady, mocking 100%.

I refused to believe she didn’t love me. I tracked her down to her new house, desperate for an explanation, only to have her slap me across the face so hard my vision blurred.

"Get out of here, you brat! Stop stalking us!"

Maybe she was afraid I’d keep coming back, because she and Justin vanished that night. I heard through the grapevine that every house they moved into was more palatial than the last. Meanwhile, my father, Frank, racked up debts he could never pay. He’d swing broken beer bottles at me, leaving me half-dead on the linoleum floor.

While I bled, I imagined Justin lounging in a mansion, enjoying a life I was denied. I had never hated her more.

But at my absolute lowest point, the "Feed" appeared—flickering text scrolling across my vision like a glitch in the universe:

[Wake up, Casey! Your mom has stage four stomach cancer. She’s doing this so she doesn't drag you down with her!]

[That bastard Frank bound her to a System. If she doesn't act like she loves the son more, the System will literally electrocute you to death!]

[She loves you more than anything. She’s already written her will—everything goes to you!]

The world snapped into focus. I reached up and caught the beer bottle mid-swing.

If those were the rules of the game, it was time for a new player.

...

* * *

The bottle whistled through the air as I wrenched it from Frank’s grip and smashed it over his head.

[Holy hell, she’s finally fighting back! This is what I’m talking about!]

[My poor girl... she’s so small, but look at her standing up for herself.]

[Am I the only one crying for the mom right now?]

Frank crumpled to the floor, reeking of cheap lager and shouting profanities. "You little bitch! You're gonna pay for that... my head..."

I wiped the blood from my face with my sleeve and picked up a jagged shard of glass from the floor. I held it an inch from his eyebrow. My voice was eerily steady, a cold calm settling over my bones.

"Where are the stomach meds? Give them to me."

[Stomach meds? She’s trying to save her mom. There’s hope!]

Hope? No, it wasn't that simple.

Pieces of the puzzle were finally clicking together. After the divorce, Valerie—my mother—had become a different person. Every time she saw me, she treated me like her worst enemy. She’d go out of her way to dote on Justin right in front of me.

"Get out! This is my house. You don't belong here!"

"Stop crying about 'fairness.' If I’d had your brother first, you wouldn't even exist!"

Those words had been knives in my heart. I realized now they weren't meant to wound. They were a shield.

My chest ached so sharply I could barely breathe. While Frank was still dazed from the blow, I snatched his phone. I scrolled through his recent texts with Valerie. It was all about me.

Frank: Send $10,000 now. Or I’ll break your daughter’s legs.

Valerie: Leave her alone. I’ll send $20,000.

Frank: $30,000.

Valerie: Fine. Just don't touch her.

She had once told me she wished she could kill him. Instead, she was letting him bleed her dry to keep me breathing.

My nails dug into my palms until I drew blood. I was shaking with a grief so profound it felt like a physical weight.

Frank groaned, the alcohol wearing off. He lunged upward, his palm connecting with my face. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. He threw a bottle of pills at me, sneering.

"That bitch doesn't want you, and you're still worried about her meds? Save your breath. She’s got one foot in the grave anyway."

He stood up, towering over me. "And you... you think you're tough now? I’ll show you what happens when you lay a finger on your father."

He grabbed a fresh bottle. It came down again and again. I curled into a ball, clutching the stomach medicine to my chest, refusing to scream. When Frank was sober, he was a monster. He grabbed me by the hair and slammed me into the floor. Shards of glass sliced into my skin.

"Your mother was right," he hissed, his boot hovering over my ribs. "You're a mistake."

He stomped down. I heard the sickening crack of bone. The pain was so intense it turned the world white.

My ribs were broken. I must have blacked out.

When I woke, I didn't care about the agony in my side. I crawled out of that house and staggered toward the address I’d found for Valerie. When I finally reached her door, covered in blood and grime, she looked horrified for a split second. Then, her mask slid back on.

"Get lost!" she screamed, her voice cracking with a desperation she tried to hide. "You’re nothing to me! Stay away from us!"

I threw the pills over the gate and looked her right in the eye. "Don't worry," I said, my voice cold. "This is the last time. When you die, don't expect me to show up for the funeral."