No Compensation for My Son Chapter 1

The moment the just compensation hit my account, I immediately transferred every last dime to my adopted daughter. My son, Mark, was on his knees before me, snot running, tears streaming. "Mom, your granddaughter is still in the hospital, fighting for her life! She needs that money!" I ignored his pitiful pleas, turning instead to buy my adopted daughter a house in a bustling metropolitan area.

Relatives swarmed, their voices cloying with "wisdom," begging me to reconsider. "A daughter given away is like water poured out, and she’s not even your blood," they’d nag. "You’ll end up out on the street, old woman, mark my words." I didn't listen to a single word; instead, I promptly showed them the door.

In a flash, my story went viral online, hitting trending topics: "Small-Town Grandma Gives Redevelopment Fortune to Adopted Daughter, Biological Son Gets Nothing." A national TV network even invited me to appear on "Life Unscripted."

Outside, the biting wind howled, and my son, Mark, hammered on the door, "BANG! BANG! BANG!" Inside, the house was a haven of warmth. My adopted daughter, Dawn, kept piling generous portions of my favorite braised pork onto my plate. Her husband, David, set a steaming mug of warm milk beside me. "Mom," David ventured, his voice gentle, "are you sure we shouldn't open the door for Mark and the others?" I slowly chewed a mouthful of pork, savoring the rich flavor. "Don't mind them," I said, my voice deliberately unhurried. "Just sit down and eat while it's hot."

Mark’s furious pounding finally tore the old door from its hinges, sending it crashing to the floor. A flurry of relatives and reporters surged in, encircling us in a suffocating wave. Camera flashes popped like fireflies around us as Mark crawled on his knees from the doorway, straight to where I sat. "Mom," he choked out, his voice raw, "Lily's been given a critical prognosis. Please, just give me some money to save her. Even if it's just a loan, okay?"

I sat at the head of the table, unmoving as a stone. My daughter-in-law, Brenda, her hair disheveled, knelt tragically before me. "Mom, I'll bow to you!" she wailed, banging her forehead lightly on the floor. "Please, save Lily! If we wait any longer, your granddaughter won't make it!" I cast a cold, indifferent glance at them. "If you want charity," I said, my voice flat, "go beg on the streets. Don't come here wailing like banshees. You're an embarrassment."

My words ignited a storm of indignation from the relatives. "Eleanor, this is completely out of line!" one shrilled. "Dawn is just an adopted daughter! You know what they say, 'a stranger's heart is a world away.'" Another chimed in, "Mark is your biological son! You’re giving your money to an outsider instead of him? What will people say?" "Exactly!" someone else added. "And your granddaughter is dying in the hospital, waiting for that money! You wouldn't just watch her die, would you?"

A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched my lips. Without warning, I snatched a handful of Mark’s hair and slapped him hard across the face. The relatives gasped, startled by my sudden ferocity, and rushed forward to intervene. I slowly released him. "Mark is your nephew, isn't he?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm. "Why don't you all be charitable and lend him some money to save Lily?"

Their faces twisted, a kaleidoscope of discomfort and anger. "What kind of talk is that?" one spluttered. "We all have our own struggles! You got a massive buyout, so why wouldn't you save your own granddaughter? Isn't that just common sense?" I gave them a cold, dismissive look. "My money is mine to give to whoever I please," I stated flatly. "I don't need your input. It's getting dark. You all should leave."

The relatives flushed crimson with fury. "What deep-seated grudge," one muttered, "could make you abandon your own flesh and blood?"

"Hmph! You just wait," another sneered. "See what happens when Dawn takes all your money and kicks you out!" I merely offered a faint smile, watching them disperse. Mark and Brenda, however, refused to budge. "Mom, I'm begging you," Mark pleaded, his voice cracking. "Lily is truly in danger. If we don't get her treatment now, it'll be too late!" I tilted my chin, picked up another piece of braised pork, and put it in my mouth. "If it's too late," I mumbled around the food, "then go save her. Why are you still standing here?"

"Don't you have that house in the city?" I added, my voice carrying. "Sell it. Use the money to save your daughter." My words choked them, and they finally shuffled out, dragging the reporters with them. Only then did David and Dawn let out a collective sigh of relief, carefully setting the door back in its frame. I continued to chew my pork, the rich flavor truly satisfying. "No need to pack much," I announced. "I bought you a house in the city. We're moving there right now." Dawn's eyes widened, a mixture of joy and apprehension flickering in them. "Mom," she asked, her voice barely a whisper, "is this really fair to Mark? He's your biological son, and I'm just… you picked me up from the roadside..."

"You found me by the old creek bed…" I reached out and patted her shoulder, a rare, tender gesture. "Don't you worry, sweetheart. Mom knows what she's doing." My hand tightened, clutching the small clump of hair I'd pulled from Mark’s head moments ago. The next day, the video of Mark and Brenda kneeling before me, desperately pleading for money to save Lily, exploded across social media.