The three of them raised their glasses and drank it all in one go.
The remaining glass was probably left for me.
Anna Gilbert was my name. The ones celebrating my birthday were my parents, and my older sister whom I had never met.
But I had never truly known them.
All at once, I fell into enormous confusion and panic.
Mom sighed. "Ah, if only Anna could come."
Dad's face turned stern. "There's still one last month. Once Anna finishes the college entrance exam and completes the task, we absolutely cannot give up halfway!"
I was stunned.
A task? What task?
Mom dabbed at the tear marks at the corner of her eye. "It's all thanks to the 'raise-poor' plan you designed. That's how we trained our Anna to excel in both character and academics—to endure hardship and work hard."
"To raise her, I've worried myself sick."
"Pretending to be bedridden all day. The figure I worked so hard to maintain with yoga is about to go out of shape."
Dad drained his glass in one gulp. "These past years, I haven't suffered any less."
"When Anna was home, I didn't even dare smoke cigars. Held it in until my whole body felt miserable."