Sold by My Mother

Late one night, I was curled up in bed scrolling through anonymous posts on my tablet when one caught my eye. "My daughter scored 1560 on her SAT, but she's determined to leave home for an out-of-state university. How can I get her to choose a local school instead and stay with me forever?" The comments tore into the parent for being selfish and controlling. However, the original poster insisted she'd sacrificed everything to raise her daughter alone and couldn't bear the thought of growing old with no one by her side. Amidst the barrage of criticism, I saw the top-rated reply. "These high school seniors won't see it coming. Wait until she's asleep, take her phone, use the verification code to reset her application portal password, and change all her college choices two minutes before the deadline. "Once the admissions results are finalized, fake a medical emergency and end up in the ER. She'll be too guilty to ask for a gap year." As someone who had also just scored high on the exams this year, I was shaking with anger. I was about to leave a furious reply when I instinctively reached for the phone charging beside my pillow. It was gone. Chapter 1 "Mom?" No answer came from the living room. The treacherous top-rated comment flashed through my mind again. "Wait until she's asleep. Take her phone. Reset the password. Change all her applications to in-state schools." Barefoot, I stood frozen in my bedroom doorway, my palms slick with sweat. Then I looked up. A faint blue glow spilled from the end of the hallway. The unmistakable light of a computer monitor. Tap. Tap. Tap. The keyboard clicked steadily, each keystroke sounding like another nail being hammered into a coffin. When I leaned around the corner, the blood drained from my face. My mother, Whitney Richmond, sat hunched over the computer desk. The cold blue light from the screen cast shifting shadows across her face. She clutched my phone in one hand while the other flew across the keyboard. On the screen was the State University Application Portal. My name, my exam registration number, and my Social Security number—every bit of my personal information was there. At the bottom of the page, bold red letters stared back at me. Application Submitted. First Choice: Westbridge Business College. Second Choice: North Valley Institute of Information Technology. These were schools I'd never even heard of, bottom-tier colleges no one with my score would ever consider. My hard-earned score of 1560 had been thrown straight into the trash. "Mom! What are you doing?!" I lunged forward and ripped the mouse out of her hand. She shot to her feet. The instant she saw me, panic flashed across her face. Then, just as quickly, she clutched her chest. Her body arched backward. Bang. She hit the floor hard. "My... my heart... Gemma... my heart hurts..." She writhed across the floor, eyes rolling back, gasping for air as her arms and legs twitched violently. I froze. Half the fury burning inside me vanished in an instant. What if... What if this wasn't an act? "Mom! Mom, don't scare me!" I dropped beside her. She grabbed my arm with surprising strength, her fingernails digging into my skin. "Call 911... hurry... I'm dying..." My hands shook so badly I almost dropped my phone as I dialed. During the fifteen minutes it took the ambulance to arrive, my mother continued "fighting for her life." I knelt beside her, my mind completely blank. The emergency room hallway was cold and painfully bright. I sat in a plastic chair, trembling so hard I couldn't tell whether it was from the cold or from rage. My stomach churned, and my throat tightened as if something huge had lodged there, impossible to swallow. Half an hour later, the doctor stepped out. "Are you Ms. Whitney Richmond's family?" "I'm her daughter." "Well, it's nothing serious. She had a stress response brought on by emotional distress. Her ECG is normal. Blood pressure's a little elevated, but she'll be fine after some rest." Dr. Bennett removed his mask. "She doesn't even need medication." I stared at him for three long seconds, unable to say a word. No heart condition. No angina. No near-death emergency. She'd faked the whole thing. I borrowed a phone from one of the nurses and logged into the university application portal with trembling fingers. A line of red text filled the screen. This application cycle has been locked. No further changes may be made. The deadline had passed forty-seven minutes earlier. I handed the phone back to the nurse. "Thank you." My voice was so flat it frightened even me. At three in the morning, my mother was snoring loudly in her hospital bed. I quietly reached beneath her pillow and retrieved my phone. I opened the anonymous local forum. The original poster had updated the thread an hour earlier. "Thanks for the advice. It worked. "I faked passing out and got myself admitted to the ER. The little brat is sitting here crying her eyes out, watching over me. She doesn't dare bring up taking a gap year." As I stared at the words "the little brat," I bit down so hard on my lip that I tasted blood. My fingers trembled, the tips having gone ice cold. Those three words cut deeper than the poisonous advice itself. The anonymous poster… was my mother. Chapter 2 The next comment made me feel even sicker. A user named "ParkerDad" replied, "Congratulations. Once she graduates, have her marry my son. I'll pay you $50,000." My mother immediately responded with a thumbs-up emoji. My stomach churned. Then someone else asked, "Keeping her close is one thing, but ruining her future... is it really worth it?" My mother answered that one too. "Girls leave once they get married anyway. 'ParkerDad' promised that as long as she stays here, she'll marry his son after graduation. I'll get $50,000 for my retirement. "And he'll pull some strings to get my brother a county job. Now that's a real bargain!" My grip tightened around my phone as I struggled to breathe. The hospital room was quiet. My mother rolled over, mumbled something in her sleep, then started snoring again. Eighteen years. She'd spent all that time lamenting to everyone how hard it was to raise a daughter as a single mother. The truth? My tuition had been covered by scholarships and financial aid. Every dollar of spending money came from collecting recyclables, handing out flyers, and stocking shelves at the grocery store. I lived in the dorms all three years of high school. She never gave me a single dollar toward my monthly food expenses. I couldn't even bring myself to order the cheapest pasta in the cafeteria. Most days, I survived on plain dinner rolls and mashed potatoes. Meanwhile, she spent five days a week feeding the slot machines. During my junior year, I won first prize in a state academic competition. The prize money was $3,000. Before I could even enjoy it, she took $2,500 to pay off one of my uncle's gambling debts. She kept the remaining $500. "I'll save it for you," she said. I never saw a cent of it again. After sending the money to my Uncle Derek that day, she sat on the couch smoking in silence. Ashes fell onto her pants, but she didn't even brush them away. Then she quietly said, "My mother did the same thing to me. She gave all the money she'd saved for my wedding to Derek." Back then, I hadn't understood what she meant. Now I did. She'd been sacrificed once. So she believed sacrificing me was only natural. As for my forty-year-old Uncle Derek, he still lived off my mother. Whenever he lost money gambling, he came begging her for cash. When he wanted a new phone, he went to her. When he started dating someone, she paid for that too. She handed over the money without hesitation, then turned around and told me, "Your uncle's had a hard life." The only thing she'd ever bought me was a $30 pair of winter boots. She talked about that purchase for the next six months. Back then, she'd still ask whether I was cold. On freezing winter mornings, her fingers would be bright red as she crouched down to tie my shoelaces. Then she'd look up and smile at me. That felt like another lifetime. Somewhere along the way, the only things left in her world were the slot machines and her brother. She used my money to pay off his debts, then bought herself a gold necklace. And now? It wasn't enough to drain my bank account. She intended to sell me too. $50,000. Dawn's light slowly crept through the hospital window. I sat there all night, forcing every ounce of anger back down. My application had already been locked in the portal. Even if I confronted her now, at worst she'd get scolded, and I'd gain nothing. Not yet. I opened my phone and hired a same-day courier. At seven the next morning, my mother woke up. When she saw me still sitting beside her bed, her eyes immediately reddened. She grabbed my hand. "Gemma, you scared me to death last night. You're all I have. If you move away, what if I suddenly die? No one would even know..." The tears came instantly, streaming down the wrinkles in her face. I simply looked at her. She wiped her eyes and choked back another sob. "I know your grades are good, but our local universities are perfectly fine. You'll stay close to home, and I can still take care of you..." Take care of me? I took a deep breath and forced a few tears into my eyes. "Mom, I'm not leaving. I'll stay here with you." Her tears vanished almost instantly. A smile spread across her face as she patted my hand. "That's my good girl." That afternoon, after she was discharged, I picked up the package the courier had delivered to the ER reception desk. As soon as we got home and she went to take a shower, I opened it. I tucked a miniature camera deep inside the leaves of the potted pothos, angling the lens toward the couch and coffee table. Then I took out two digital voice recorders. One went underneath the edge of the coffee table. The other was attached to the side of the TV stand. Perfect. My mother walked out of the bathroom and glanced at me. "Derek's family is coming to stay for a few days tomorrow. Clean out the guest room. "Oh, and Mr. Parker is bringing his son over in a couple of days. Dress up a little. Don't look like such a bookworm." "Okay," I said. Satisfied, she nodded and wandered into the kitchen, humming to herself as she started making lunch. I sat alone in my room, staring at my backpack with its hidden surveillance equipment. 'Mom, the biggest mistake you've ever made was thinking all I knew how to do was cry.' Chapter 3 Early the next morning, Uncle Derek showed up at our front door carrying two oversized duffel bags. Behind him were Aunt Brenda and my cousin, Tyler. Between the three of them, they'd brought six bags, filling the entire entryway. Mom made me sleep on a mattress in the living room so Uncle Derek's family could take the guest bedroom. "What's wrong with a kid sleeping in the living room? They came all this way. Can't you be a little considerate?" I didn't argue. I simply gathered my bedding and carried it out. The first thing Aunt Brenda did after settling in was announce that she was "helping me organize my room." She started pulling stacks of books off my shelves and stuffing them into garbage bags—review guides, notebooks, practice tests, everything. "These old things are just taking up space. You're not going to college anymore, so what's the point of keeping them?" I stepped forward to stop her. "Aunt Brenda, those are my things." She looked at me sideways. "Your mom already told us you're not going to school. You're getting married. What good are these books now? Tyler needs somewhere to put his gaming console." Tyler was fifteen and already pushing 200 pounds. He was rummaging through my closet. He picked up one of my neatly folded bras. "Hey, Gemma, is this one too small for you?" Without even looking up, Aunt Brenda said, "Tyler, knock it off. That's your cousin's." Instead, he swung it around in his hand, laughing. I snatched it away. From the kitchen, Mom shouted, "Gemma! Stop being so stingy! Tyler's family!" I looked around my room to see that everything had been turned upside down. My fists slowly clenched. While Tyler was glued to his video game, I "accidentally" stepped on the power cord. The screen went black, and he let out an enraged scream. Aunt Brenda stormed into the room, yelling at me for not watching where I was going. Without saying a word, I bent down and plugged it back in. I'd put up with it. At two that afternoon, the doorbell rang. Mom rushed to answer it, smiling so hard her face looked ready to split. Two men stood outside. The first was a short, heavyset man in his fifties with a balding head, a protruding belly, and thick gold rings covering his fingers. It was Martin Parker—the man behind the anonymous "ParkerDad" account. Standing beside him was a man in his early twenties with bleached blond hair, a snake tattoo wrapped around his neck, and three earrings in his left ear. His son, Logan Parker. Last year, he'd shoved a seventy-year-old woman down a flight of stairs in his apartment complex. His father paid $200,000 to settle the case before it ever reached court. "Come in! Gemma, go pour your future husband a glass of water!" The moment Logan saw me, his eyes lit up. He strode over and reached for my waist. "Well, damn. My future wife's even prettier than I expected." I sidestepped him, so his hand closed on empty air. The grin on his face disappeared. Mom slammed her hand against the table. "What are you pulling away for? The Parkers own three apartment buildings in town. A girl like you should be grateful they picked you!" Uncle Derek wandered out of the bedroom carrying a mug and a cigarette. "My job as head of security is riding on Mr. Parker. Don't ruin the family's future by acting like you don't know a good thing when you see it." "Is that a permanent position or just temporary?" I asked casually. Uncle Derek answered without hesitation, "Permanent, of course! Mr. Parker promised me himself!" Standing directly beneath the hidden camera, he repeated the most important detail all over again. Aunt Brenda leaned against the doorway with a mocking smile. "So what if you scored a 1560? A girl who marries well is the real winner." Logan wandered over again. This time, he reached out and grabbed my chin. "Quit playing hard to get. Sooner or later, you'll be mine anyway." I slapped his hand away and took a step back. Mom's shrill voice rang through the house. "Gemma Richmond! Keep this up and I'll drag your name through the mud!" The living room fell silent. I lowered my head and stared at my shadow on the floor. Then I looked up and smiled. "Okay." Everyone froze. "But," I continued, "if we're getting engaged, shouldn't we do it properly?" Mom's expression changed instantly from fury to delight. Martin slapped his thigh and burst out laughing. "Now that's what I like to hear! Straight to the point!" Mom wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "We'll hold your college send-off party and engagement party together next week! We'll make it the biggest event this town's ever seen." "Sounds good." I smiled and nodded. What none of them knew was that from the moment they walked through my front door, my hidden camera had captured every second of it. Chapter 4 The moment Mom pocketed the $50,000 engagement deposit from Martin, she started acting like she'd won the lottery. She got her hair done, bought herself a bright red dress, and told anyone who would listen, "My daughter's marrying into one of the richest families in town." Uncle Derek wasn't any quieter. He bragged everywhere he went that he was about to become head of security. Meanwhile, I played the part of the obedient daughter. Every day, I sweetly texted Logan. "Logan, what'd you have for lunch today?" "Your tattoo looks so cool." His replies came almost instantly. "Thinking about you. When are you gonna come out so I can steal a kiss?" A voice message popped up right after. I played half of it before stopping. In a low voice, he said he'd dreamed about me all night, and if he told me what happened in the dream, I'd be too embarrassed to hear it. My stomach turned as I stared at the screen. Every message was riddled with typos, and every sentence ended with a grinning emoji. But I knew exactly what he liked. I pressed screenshot, saving every message in an encrypted folder labeled: Evidence 3. Then I added one more text. "You're the sweetest, Logan. Talk tomorrow!" The moment I hit send, I tossed my phone onto the foot of the bed as if it were contaminated. Just typing those words made me want to throw up. Logan, on the other hand, loved every second of it. His messages became increasingly explicit. I saved screenshots of every single one. Three days later, I told Mom I wanted to stop by the Parkers' house and help clean. "I want to make a good impression on my future in-laws." She was so thrilled and even drove me there herself. Mrs. Margaret Parker happened to be out of town visiting relatives. I spent two hours mopping floors, wiping down furniture, and washing dishes. Just before I left, while Martin and Logan were smoking on the rooftop deck, I slipped a digital voice recorder beneath the living room couch. Three days later, I returned with an excuse to retrieve it. That night, hidden beneath my blankets with my headphones on, I listened to every second of the recording. Mom's voice came first. "At the engagement party, get a few drinks into her. Then have Logan lock her in one of the bedrooms. The next morning, I'll bring the relatives in to catch them together." Martin chuckled. "And then?" My mother: "Once her reputation's ruined, she'll have no choice but to marry him. After the marriage license is signed, transfer the $50,000 straight into Derek's account." Martin: "Deal. Oh, and about that financial aid, when the time comes, go talk to Old Bill in the admissions office..." When I took off my headphones, my hands were shaking, not from fear but from excitement. I turned on my computer and compressed the audio recording, surveillance footage, forum screenshots, and chat logs into a single file. Then I drafted an email and sent it to the state's organized crime tip line. A second email went to the State Department of Education's Office of Inspector General. After hitting send, I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. I smiled for a very long time. There was one thing my mother would never know. The day after my SAT scores were released, I'd already passed the Honors Admissions Program interview at Northwood State University, the state's flagship university. I'd signed the enrollment agreement, and my student record had already been transferred. My place was secure. Whatever was entered into the regular application portal would never be processed. The applications she'd worked so hard to change had been nothing more than an empty shell. I'd left them there as bait on purpose. The combined college send-off and engagement party was scheduled for Saturday. Mom booked eighteen tables at the nicest venue in town, the Grand Oak. On Saturday morning, she called me while wearing her new red dress. "You ungrateful brat! Everyone's already here, and you're still dragging your feet! Get over here right now! If you embarrass me today, I'll break your legs!" Standing in front of the mirror, I straightened my collar. In my hand was the flash drive containing every piece of evidence. "I'm on my way, Mom." I ended the call and looked at my reflection. 'Mom, you only have a few more minutes before everything falls apart.'