Something inside me snapped.
"Where are the new clothes you promised?!"
I screamed at Mom. "I'm the only one dressed in rags!"
Someone in the crowd couldn't hold back: "How dare you talk to your mother like that! Look at her—does she ever buy anything new for herself?!"
Mom grabbed my arm frantically, pulling out a crumpled wad of cash.
One-yuan bills. Fifty-cent notes. A few coins.
She pressed them into my hand. "I sold some recyclables this morning—take this for now. Once your uncle gets here, I'll take you shopping."
I knocked the money out of her hand. "Cut the act! If you've got time for this performance, why don't you go beg Aunt Naomi for Evan's hand-me-downs!"
Aunt Naomi's face went white with rage. "What the hell did you just say?! My son wears designer! You think you deserve to wear his clothes?!"
The crowd erupted.
Someone held up their phone, livestreaming: Saintly Mother Attacked by Ungrateful Daughter.
Comments exploded across the screen:
[Top scorer in the city? Zero points for character!]
[She doesn't appreciate anything!]
[If you think the money's dirty, don't spend it!]