"Mom, we can't move out, what about my child?" His sister, who was pregnant and didn't even know who the father of the child was, said.
She persuaded me: "Sister, how about you don't divorce, and leave the house to my son to support you in the future, is that okay?"
Although his father didn't say anything, he was so angry that he slammed the teacup hard on the ground.
The atmosphere was extremely tense. Her sister tried to mediate: "How about this? You can divorce, but you have to give us a resettlement fee, so that we have a place to go."
"Exactly! How have I mistreated you in the past?"
Tsk tsk, not a single decent word.
In everyone's eyes, there was a flicker of greed, and the previous false affection had disappeared.
I used to consider them as my family, but in the previous life, in order to prevent me from getting a share of the prize, several people held me down and injected me with a sedative. They buried me in the suburbs late at night.
They argued incessantly, while Dan held his phone and laughed foolishly, seemingly planning how to invite Rachel out for a meal.
Ha. Since the world was so crazy, I didn't need to be too normal either.