I Pay Strangers to Be My Dad

Ever since Mom loses the baby, Dad has been spending his time keeping his late classmate's wife company. So I take scissors to our family photos, cutting him out of every single one. When Mom receives a call from my school, she overhears me telling a classmate that my dad is dead and asking if I can borrow theirs instead. Mom freezes for a moment before admitting, "Yeah, he died young." When family sports day rolls around, Mom catches me slipping a ten-dollar bill to the school guard, begging him to pretend to be my dad for the day. Instead of stopping me, she quietly hands the guard 200 dollars, making sure he attends the parent-teacher conference with me. Whenever an event requires a father figure, Mom simply lets me rent one. Eventually, it dawns on Dad that he hasn't heard anything from us in a long time. He clears his entire schedule for the afternoon to pick me up from school, but my teacher stops him at the school gate. Dad heads back home in confusion. The second he steps through the front door, he overhears me speaking to the maintenance guy. "My dad's dead," I tell him. "Do you want to be my new dad?" Chapter 1 The wall was covered with family pictures, all captured during award ceremonies, but the men standing beside Mom and me in every single shot were all strangers. "Rebecca, who are the guys standing next to you in these pictures?" Dad's voice was icy, his gaze practically burning a hole through the frames. I had no idea why he was so angry, and I fiddled with my fingers, completely at a loss for words. The maintenance guy wiped the sweat from his brow. "What are you talking about, kid? Your dad's still very much alive!" With a nervous chuckle, he hurried out of the apartment to escape the tension. Hearing those words made Dad's jaw twitch with rage. He was so angry that he didn't even notice the cake slipping from his grip and smashing onto the floor. "I've only been gone for two months, and you two are already telling people I'm dead? Rebecca, come out! Is this how you're raising our kid?" Terrified, I rushed forward to defend Mom. "Nobody taught me that! Don't blame Mom. I'm the one who said it!" With a dark expression, Dad tore the frames off the wall one by one, intending to smash them to pieces. But as he lifted them, the text detailing the award-winning competitions caught his eye. His hands froze in midair, and he turned to look at me with a complicated expression. I waited, my chest tight with anxiety, wondering how he would react. Dad didn't know that after he effectively vanished to stay at Winona Sutton's house two months ago, Mom secretly hired someone to be my dad for school competitions. She had done it more than once. As if drawn by the commotion, Mom emerged from the bedroom. In just two short months, her appearance had changed drastically. Her eyes were hollow, her steps were unsteady, and her frame was skin and bones. Upon seeing Dad, she didn't cry and scream for a divorce, nor did she go into a hysterical frenzy, wielding a knife to force him to choose between her and Winona. She simply stared at him with an indifferent gaze. Dad's fury vanished instantly, his throat bobbing as guilt and shame caught up to him. As if he remembered something, he frantically pulled out a brand-new camera from his bag, offering it to Mom with a tender expression. "Becky, look. This is the camera model you've wanted for the longest time. And about your dream of getting back into photography, I've already submitted your portfolio to an international competition." Mom just stared at it blankly. There was no surprise, nor joy in her expression. I recognized the camera instantly. It was the exact model Mom had kept in her online wishlist for two years now. To save up for our household expenses, she could never bring herself to buy it. When she finally built up the courage to ask Dad for it, he repeatedly brushed her off with excuses. But Dad didn't know that the model he bought was already outdated, and Mom had already purchased a much newer camera herself. As he watched Mom's reaction, Dad's brow drew into a tight knot. He let out a sigh, helplessly sliding the camera directly into her hands, his tone softening with indulgence. "Alright, honey. It's my fault. I'm to blame. You've been feeling miserable ever since the miscarriage, and here I am picking a fight with you. Don't worry. Things are wrapping up on Winona's end. Just give it a little more time." Give it a little more time? I balled my hands into fists, my heart aching for Mom as I looked at her. It had been two months. Dad was nothing but a liar. He said those exact words 52 times, yet he never actually followed through. While Mom waited for him, she endured the miscarriage of my baby brother, and she waited until her depression spiraled into self-harm. Even when she was covered in scars, he never came back to her. Instead, he would always dismiss her and throw the blame back in her face. "Rebecca, I told you she's my professor's daughter! We went to the same school and work together! Why are you making such a big deal out of it?" Just then, Dad's phone rang. He answered it in a hurry, and through the receiver, the crying of another little girl echoed. "Daddy, please come home! Mommy's face is burning up. She fell on the floor and won't get up!" Immediately after, a woman's voice sounded in the background as she weakly scolded the girl, "Why are you calling him? We can't keep being a burden to him…" My brow furrowed, and an overwhelming urge to scream boiled up inside me. He was my dad, not anyone else's! But Dad's eyes instantly turned red, his voice trembling with emotion. "Winnie, what are you talking about? I want nothing more than for you to lean on me for the rest of my life!" As he spoke, he frantically tossed the camera onto the bed. "Becky, Winona might have pushed herself too much. I need to check on her right now. I'll come back and explain everything to you in a bit!" Dad practically fled the apartment. Mom and I stared at his retreating figure. We both knew that he wouldn't be returning tonight. Chapter 2 Mom picked up the camera and clicked on the gallery, which stored row after row of photos featuring Dad, Winona, and her daughter. I saw a photo taken on the day Mom miscarried. Dad was accompanying them on a Ferris wheel ride. Another photo was taken the night Mom bled a lot after cutting herself. Dad was accompanying them to watch a fireworks display. A sharp pang of agony pierced my chest, and I cried. It turned out Dad did have time after all. He just never spared any of it for Mom. Trembling from head to toe, Mom pulled me into her arms, her raspy voice filled with determination. "Sarah, Dad is dead to us, right?" I nodded repeatedly. Having clearly made up her mind about something, Mom raised the camera and threw it against the wall with all her might. With a loud crash, the camera shattered into a million tiny pieces. I knew her heart had broken right along with it. Before falling asleep that night, I overheard Mom talking to a man on the phone. "I'll take the photography job at Glenside," she said. "I'll be there in a week, just as we agreed." Just as sleep took over, I suddenly remembered that Mom used to be a world-renowned photographer. Whenever she released something, wealthy elites and high-profile celebrities would aggressively outbid one another at auctions just to own her work. Later, she gave up her entire career for Dad, hiding away in Jarrow to work a grueling job that paid a measly 3,000 dollars a month just to be mistreated by others. I couldn't help but smile a little. In seven days, the brilliant, successful version of Mom would finally return. … There were five days until our departure. The moment I returned home after school, loud, chaotic crashing noises echoed from inside the house. I saw Dad, who hadn't set foot in our home for two days, grabbing the trophies Mom and I won from our competitions and carelessly tossing them into a box. The dresses Mom had saved up to buy me and my limited-edition dolls were also shoved inside the box. My mind went blank, and I looked at Mom with growing anxiety. Her expression was calm, though the hands resting at her sides shook with rage. "Are you kidding me, Callum? I can look past the fact that you didn't bother coming home to check on Sarah for two days, but the second you walk through the door, you start stealing her belongings for that woman and her child." Dad didn't think much of it, casually smiling as he turned a trophy over in his hands. "I didn't want it to come to this either. But if you hadn't posted that petty Instagram post just to upset Winnie and Yvonne, they wouldn't be so depressed right now. Besides, Sarah already gets plenty of things. What's wrong with sharing a couple of them with a little girl who doesn't have a father?" Mom scoffed in disbelief, her eyes reddening with disappointment. "I never bragged about a single thing. Then again, a thief thinks everyone steals. Sarah and I worked our fingers to the bone to win those trophies. While you were busy comforting another man's wife and daughter, did you ever stop to think about your own child?" I stood there frozen, unable to understand how Dad could become a person like this. I remembered how Mom and I wanted to eat caneles in the past. Even though they weren't sold anywhere in our city, Dad personally traveled 1,800 miles just to learn how to make them for us. Yet now, he wanted to strip us of our belongings to hand them over to someone else. Mom took a deep breath, seeing right through him. She pulled out her phone and sent a message to the reporter who requested an interview with us. "Ms. Lane, I'm available for an interview for your mothers and daughters segment. How does tomorrow at 7:00 pm sound? "Alright, I'll see you at No. 302, Ascencia Rd." "Rebecca Jennings! What do you think you're doing?" Dad barked, snatching the phone right out of her hand. Mom raised her chin, looking down at him with an icy gaze. "If they want to claim those trophies as their own, they better have the nerve to back it up. As long as they can handle a live press interview, they're welcome to keep the trophies. Dad clenched his jaw, laughing out of sheer frustration. "Are you seriously hell-bent on making this ugly? Becky, when did you turn into such a bitter person?" He tamped down his temper, his face dark as he ordered the movers to carry the final box out the door. Just before he left, Dad glanced at Mom with a mix of confusion and disapproval. "The woman I married used to be generous, sweet, and graceful. I'll bring the items back once they're done with them anyway, so you'd better cancel that interview right now!" The woman he married? I stared down at the tips of my shoes, a dull ache piercing my chest. Dad didn't use to be like this either. "Don't you dare walk out that door! Give Sarah's things back—" "Mom!" I cut her off sharply. Turning around to look at Dad, I nodded obediently. "I don't want those things anymore, Dad. You can give them to her." A flash of joy washed over Dad's face, and he smiled, reaching out to pat my head. "That's my girl." Once Dad left, I looked around the empty room and pulled ten dollars out of my piggy bank. Taking Mom's hand, which was trembling as her eyes welled with tears, I led her downstairs to our neighbor's apartment. "Jacob, can I pay you ten dollars to pretend to be my dad for tonight? It's my mom's birthday today." Chapter 3 "Did Callum…" Jacob Peters asked, his voice hoarse. "He's dead," Mom and I said in unison. Jacob seemed to put two and two together, following us straight into the dining room without another word. As we stood around the cake, I started singing "Happy Birthday". Just as Mom was about to blow out the candles, her phone buzzed with a notification. She froze instantly, her fingers trembling as she tapped the screen. Curiosity got the better of me, and I glanced over. In an instant, the color drained from my face. Winona had posted on Instagram again. Her caption read, "I love breaking things, but he doesn't mind at all. Instead, he just smiles and hands me more things to break." The photo showed the trophies Mom and I won, shattered into a million pieces across the floor. Even the toys I cherished too much to play with were covered in ugly scribbles to look like monsters. Another message popped up, this time from Dad. He sent a transfer for 50,000 dollars. Mom clicked on the voice message, and the harsh, grating sound of objects smashing blasted through the speaker. "Becky, there was a little accident with the trophies. Just take the money and buy Sarah a few more to replace them." Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. Dad didn't get it. Money could never buy our love. Mom shut her eyes tightly. Then, she quickly took a screenshot and sent a voice message to our lawyer. "Mr. Zane, here's the evidence of Callum's affair with Winona, along with his bank statements. I've submitted all the documents. Let's get this divorce moving as fast as possible." Mom didn't reply to Dad for the rest of the night. Dad, however, kept calling her nonstop, eventually switching to text messages. "Becky, I'm sorry. It completely slipped my mind that it's your birthday today. "Rebecca, why aren't you acknowledging the transfer? Are you throwing another tantrum? "Are you ever going to drop this? The reporters came to interview Winnie, and she was utterly humiliated. Is that what you wanted to see?" Mom stared at the text messages on her screen. For the first time, she didn't shed a single tear. She just calmly blocked his number. Dad would never hear a word from Mom again. There were three days left until our departure, and the city was hosting a parent-child race. Dad had promised me over and over that he'd be there to participate. Holding Mom's hand tightly, I sat nervously in the staging area, waiting for our turn. Five minutes passed, then half an hour. Dad never showed up. All of a sudden, Mom's phone rang. It was Dad. "An issue came up with a project, so I have to head into the office today. Tell Sarah I'll make it up to her for missing the race—" Before he could even finish his sentence, Mom hit the end call button and blocked the new number. I forced a smile to comfort Mom, but then a familiar voice echoed from nearby. "Daddy Callum, you're the best! With you by our side, we're definitely going to win!" In an instant, my mind went completely blank. Turning my head, I saw Dad holding another little girl tightly in his arms. I looked at Mom, bewildered. "Didn't Dad say he had to work?" Mom sprang to her feet, ready to storm over and confront him, but I snatched her arm immediately, shaking my head. "Mom, the race is starting." Left with no choice, Mom returned to the staging area. This was a relay race. As long as I could complete my leg and pass the baton to Mom at the 200-meter mark, we'd win the championship. The grand prize was an all-expenses-paid family vacation. A glimmer of hope flickered in my eyes. The moment the starting gun fired, I sprinted forward with the baton, pouring every ounce of energy into my legs. I breezed past 50 meters, 150 meters, then 190 meters. Sweat soaked into my eyelashes as I extended my arm, desperate to hand the baton off to Mom. In the next second, a sudden rush of wind blew past me, and a violent shove sent me crashing onto the track. Chapter 4 Blood instantly stained my knees crimson. The pain brought tears to my eyes, and I couldn't help but cry out in pain. Right next to me, the little girl named Yvonne James suddenly shrieked, "Why did you push me? Daddy! It hurts so bad!" She fell back onto the track, her piercing cries rattling my eardrums. Mom hurried to my side and shielded me in her arms, but the moment Dad and Winona arrived, they immediately started screaming at me. "Sarah, why would you do that to Yvonne?" Dad demanded. "I didn't do anything!" I cried, enduring the unfairness of it all. Yvonne merely sobbed harder, pointing at me. "It was her! Daddy, she pushed me, and she did it on purpose!" Rage exploded in my chest, making it hard to breathe. Mom couldn't sit back anymore, and she demanded icily, "Check the security cameras then! Since you don't trust Sarah, let the footage speak for itself!" But Dad simply scooped Yvonne up into his arms and walked away, throwing a final remark over his shoulder. "The cameras? You've taught Sarah to be so manipulative that checking the footage will only expose her lies!" They sprinted off toward the first-aid station. My face drained of color, and I gently stroked Mom's cheek with my small hand. "Mom, it's okay. It doesn't hurt." Then, I fainted. When I woke up again, the sound of cheers echoed around me. "Congratulations to Yvonne for winning the relay race!" I hung my head, my tears falling onto the ground. I knew for a fact that I was much faster than her, so why was she the champion? Could Dad have… While I was lost in thought, Mom stormed toward Winona with a dark expression. "Hey, Rebecca. You didn't have to come all this way just to celebrate my daughter's victory," Winona said. She stepped closer, dropping her voice into a whisper. "I really owe you one. If Callum hadn't stepped up to help us, I don't know where we'd be right now. And to be honest, you two actually won the race. But Callum has such a good heart, and he just can't stand to see us upset—" Mom raised her hand and struck Winona across the face repeatedly. Then, she grabbed Winona by the hair, yanking it back with brute force. "I told you to stay away from my daughter!" Mom roared. However, Winona's piercing screams instantly brought Dad running back. "Rebecca, have you lost your mind? You can't just lash out at people because you lost!" Mom's eyes were bloodshot with fury. "Yes, I can! In fact, you adulterers should burn in hell!" In the next second, Dad shoved her aside. Mom clutched her throat, her face turning deathly pale. Suddenly, a horrible realization hit me. Mom's depression coupled with all that stress had triggered a panic attack. Panicking, I pulled the emergency medication from my pocket and stumbled toward her on my injured legs. "Mom!" Just as I was about to reach her, someone deliberately tripped me. I lost my footing and went flying face-first onto the ground. The momentum sent the bottle of pills skittering across the pavement, and Yvonne wore a triumphant smirk as she planted her foot squarely on top of it. "No!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice cracking from the strain. That was Mom's emergency medication, and the doctor had warned us that she could die if she didn't take it within 20 minutes. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I scrambled up to go after it, but Winona suddenly shrieked, "Sarah, no! Don't push Yvonne!" Without a moment's hesitation, Dad lunged forward to shove me out of the way. Right behind me was a lake. In that split second, Mom threw herself in front of me to block the impact. Water splashed everywhere as Mom plunged into the lake, her face turning red as she struggled for air. I wrapped my arms around Dad's leg, sobbing uncontrollably. "Dad, Mom doesn't know how to swim! Please, she's having a panic attack!" Dad's pupils dilated in shock, and he turned around, preparing to dive in and save her. But Winona cried, "Yvonne, what's wrong with you?" Dad froze before spinning around. He scooped Yvonne up into his arms and walked away, instructing his assistant to save Mom. I stared at his retreating figure blankly, and my heart felt like it was breaking. Was Dad abandoning us? After Mom was rushed to the hospital, I pulled another ten dollars from my pocket and handed it to the orderly. "Sir, can I pay you to be my dad for the day and look after my mom?" "Hey, kiddo. Where's your actual dad?" he asked. "My dad is dead," I said calmly. Dad died the moment he chose not to save Mom. Chapter 5 The final day before our departure arrived. Mom packed our suitcases and took me to get our visas finalized. Over the past few days, Dad had been coming by every single day to visit Mom. The moment he caught sight of the orderly, his brow furrowed. "Sarah already has a father," Dad said with a sneer. "Are you just lonely after the miscarriage, or are you that desperate for a man's company?" Mom and I kept quiet, but the orderly cussed him out. Later on, Dad brought Mom a mountain of clothes and jewelry, and he gave me a bunch of toys. We ended up giving all of it to the older kids next door who were fighting cancer. Dad had absolutely no idea. Five hours before our departure, Mom took me to the amusement park I had been dreaming about for the longest time. "Sarah, you've wanted to come here for so long," Mom said. "I'm sorry I pushed it off because my health kept getting in the way." I smiled so wide that a neat row of my little teeth showed. Just then, Dad's message abruptly popped up on my smartwatch. "Sarah, tell your mom that I've already sent Ms. Sutton abroad. I'm going to take you guys out tonight to make up for your mom's birthday." A tiny ripple of emotion stirred in my chest, but in the very next second, I spotted Dad across the park, affectionately accompanying Winona on a shopping spree. I didn't tell Mom. Instead, I tapped on my smartwatch and blocked his number. Dad was lying to us again. Just as Mom and I were lining up for a ride, the park's emergency alarm blared. Out of nowhere, four rabid dogs broke through the crowd, sprinting right at us. Mom was about to pull me away to escape, but the stampede of people violently shoved me aside. "Sarah!" Mom screamed. Fear made me stand rooted to the spot, and my legs went weak. Suddenly, I heard Dad yelling at me, "Sarah, come here! Run to me!" Tears pricked my eyes, and I started running toward him, but Winona shrieked, "Callum! Yvonne's over there! Save her!" Dad looked back and forth between me and Yvonne, who was standing not far away. Meanwhile, Mom was screaming so hard that she practically lost her voice. "Callum! Save Sarah! Someone else is already helping Yvonne!" Dad frowned as he struggled with the decision, but he ultimately turned toward me and said, "Just wait right there, Sarah!" It was always the same speech. He was always asking me to wait. He pivoted instantly, scooping Yvonne up into his arms and fleeing the scene. The four rabid dogs immediately closed in on me. My heart dropped with every passing second. Just as the dogs lunged to attack, Mom burst through the crowd like a woman possessed, wielding a wooden stick. The dogs tore into her thighs, spraying her blood all over my clothes. Yet, despite the agony, she forced a smile to comfort me. "Don't be scared. I'm here now…" I shook from head to toe, crying hysterically as the dogs prepared to launch another attack. All of a sudden, a team of bodyguards rushed in, effortlessly subduing the rabid dogs with stun batons. They carried Mom into a car and sped off to the hospital. Once she received her rabies vaccine and had her wounds dressed, Mom pushed through the excruciating pain, grabbed our passports, and took me straight to the airport. "Let's go, Sarah. I can't stand to be here for another second," she said. As the plane lifted off into the sky, only one thought remained in my mind. This time, Dad would never find us again.