Six Hundred Dollars Chapter 2

The "dead old woman" was my grandma.

My name is Sarah. Grandma named me.

I was born the year SARS hit. My dad owned an internet café. Due to the regulations, the business was shut down for months.

Poverty defined my mother’s pregnancy.

No fruit, no protein. Just stress and my dad’s constant frowning. My mom had nowhere to vent, so she blamed me.

"If not for this kid, we'd be in California by now. Worst timing ever."

To make it worse, I was born during a historic heatwave.

My mom was in labor for 30 hours. The doctor suggested a C-section.

My dad asked how much it cost and how long the recovery was.

Then he said no.

My mom suffered for two days and tore badly before I finally came out.

How do I know this?

Because the moment I was born, my mom dumped me at my grandma's house and left for the city with my dad to make money.

Whenever I asked about them, Grandma told me the story of my birth.

That was the only connection I had with them.

When they left, Grandma took me to the train station.

They were in the car; Grandma held me outside the window.

She waved and asked, "What's her name? We need a name for the birth certificate!"

My mom looked icy. She wouldn't even look at Grandma.

Dad had blamed Grandma for the C-section costs argument, so Mom hated her.

Finally, annoyed, she snapped:

"So annoying. My friend in the city made sixty grand in six months. If not for this kid, we’d have a hundred grand by now."

"Useless thing. Doesn't give me a moment of peace. Just sorrow!"

The train whistle blew.

Grandma was hard of hearing. She misheard "Sorrow" (Sa-rah in the noise) as "Sarah."

She told me later that Mom named me Sarah because she hoped I would bring joy.

I grew up believing that lie, waiting for them to come back.

I waited year after year.

I sat on the porch until I wore a groove in the wood.

When I was ready for elementary school, Mom finally called.

"Send the older one to the city. She can watch her sister."

That's when I learned they had been living in the suburbs for years and had another daughter.

My sister was different. She was born in 2008, the year of the Olympics. The economy was booming.

They bought a house before she was born. After she arrived, the value tripled.

So before I even met her, I heard her name.

A name filled with hope, the opposite of my burden.

Lily.