I was over the moon. Finally, I thought, my daughter has grown up. She knows my health is failing and bought this to nourish me.
Not wanting to waste her goodwill, I opened the package and brewed the tea immediately. I even posted a photo on social media, captioning it with a proud note about my daughter's filial piety.
Barely an hour later, Jonathan stormed into the house, dragging Aria and my granddaughter with him.
He grabbed the open packaging and bellowed, "Mom! You opened it? You actually drank it?"
I startled at his ferocity. "Yes. It's the birthday gift Aria gave me. What's wrong?"
He looked as if he'd been slapped. "This ginseng was meant for my mother! Aria giving it to you was just a prop! A gesture! How could you be so thick-headed as to actually consume it?"
A ringing filled my ears. My mind went blank.
"Jonathan," I managed, voice trembling. "Are you mistaken? Aria bought this because I've been unwell. It was to help me recover."
He laughed—cold, mocking. "Mom, this costs two thousand dollars." He sneered down at me with absolute contempt. "Did you honestly think Aria would buy something that expensive for you?"
My heart seized. The words lodged in my throat like a fishbone.