"Brother, just this once, I need a million... I swear I’ll repay you."
"I know we weren’t that close, but you’re successful now... helping shouldn’t be a problem, right?"
Their voices varied, so pleading, so entitled, so overly familiar, but the intent remained the sa.
None of them spoke about when they would return the money. None of them offered any real assurance.
Only vague promises. Indefinite tilines. Empty words. ’Not one of them rembers how they treated back then...’
Adam rubbed his temples, exhaustion seeping into his bones. The pressure kept building, call after call, ssage after ssage, until even silence felt heavy.
At first, he refused them politely. "I’m sorry, I can’t help. I have my own responsibilities. I’m not in a position to lend money."
But as more people ca, so even reminding him of small favors they had done years ago, the situation beca harder to handle.
Guilt mixed with irritation. Obligation tangled with refusal. It was suffocating.
That Sunday morning, the sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the kitchen. The faint clinking of cutlery and the comforting aroma of breakfast filled the air, yet Adam sat there, unmoving, his food barely touched.
His brows were slightly furrowed, his gaze distant. Lost.
Aurora walked into the kitchen quietly, her footsteps light against the floor. She reached for a glass, filling it with water, but her eyes lingered on Adam.
She paused. ’He looks... tired.’
Frowning slightly, she set the glass down and walked over to him.
"Dad," she said gently, her voice soft yet clear, "what happened? Why do you look so lost?"
Hearing her voice, Adam blinked, as if being pulled back from a deep haze. He turned to look at her, and a faint smile ford on his lips.
This daughter of his... She was truly a blessing that ca late into his life.
"Nothing," he said with a quiet chuckle, waving his hand lightly. "Just so annoying people bothering ."
His tone turned firr, more reassuring.
"I’ll deal with them. You don’t need to worry about it."
Aurora studied him for a mont, her gaze calm, not probing, yet understanding more than he realized. She didn’t press further.
Instead, she gave a small nod. Then, with a faint smile, she said, "If it gets difficult... you can tell ."
Her voice carried a quiet confidence. "I’ll handle it for you."
She paused, her eyes glinting slightly. "After all... not one of them stood by you when you were begging them, did they?"
"When it was ti for my surgery... where were all of them?" Aurora’s voice was calm, yet there was a quiet sharpness beneath it, like a blade hidden under silk.
Adam’s fingers tightened slightly around his cup. Aurora continued, her tone steady, her gaze unwavering.
"These people like to stand on moral high ground now," she said softly. "They speak as if they’ve done so much... but let’s not forget sothing."
She tilted her head slightly, a faint, almost mocking smile appearing.
"Back then, whatever little help ca... it never even crossed a thousand dollars."
’Not even enough to matter... yet now they demand everything.’
She looked directly at Adam.
"If that’s the case, then you can return the sa favor," she said. "You can give them a thousand dollars each as a loan. That would already be more than what most of them did for you."
Adam fell silent, absorbing her words as the morning light reflected faintly in his eyes.
Aurora wasn’t done.
"And if they still continue to bother you..." she added, her tone turning slightly colder, "then there’s another way."
She folded her arms lightly, thinking as she spoke.
"You can make a condition. Tell them that you will only lend money to one person, the one who is truly in the most need."
She paused, letting the idea sink in. "And they can decide among themselves who deserves it."
A faint glint flashed in her eyes. "But there will be a limit."
She raised a finger slightly. "One hundred thousand dollars. Not a single penny more."
Hearing that, Adam frowned slightly, his brows knitting together.
"What if..." he hesitated, then voiced his concern, "what if after I give it to one person, the others still co to ?"
Aurora chuckled softly, the sound light yet filled with confidence.
"That’s where the real ga begins," she said. ’People reveal their true faces when money is involved.’
"You just need to make one more rule," she continued. "Once you give the money to that one person, they don’t return it to you."
Adam blinked, surprised.
"They pass it on," Aurora said smoothly. "They repay it by giving it to the next most needy person. And that person passes it on again."
She smiled faintly. "Let them deal with each other."
For a mont, Adam simply stared at her. Then, slowly, realization dawned.
His tense expression eased, and a hint of admiration appeared in his eyes.
’When did she beco this sharp...?’
He couldn’t help but give her a small thumbs-up, a quiet chuckle escaping him.
Seeing that, Aurora laughed softly.
"It would be even better if you clearly state all these conditions beforehand," she added. "That way, they won’t be able to accuse you later or twist your words."
Adam nodded, the heaviness in his chest finally easing. Then he looked at her, his eyes softening.
"You’ve really grown up," he said with a gentle smile.
Aurora waved her hand dismissively.
"It’s nothing," she replied. Then her tone turned slightly serious. "But don’t forget to tell what happens after you deal with this."
"I won’t disappoint you," Adam said firmly. And he didn’t.
The mont Adam put forward his conditions, everything changed.
The so-called relatives, friends, colleagues, and neighbors, people who had once spoken sweetly, began to turn on each other.
The group chat he created quickly turned chaotic. ssages flooded in. Accusations. Argunts. Hidden truths.
One by one, they began exposing each other. "He’s lying! He doesn’t even need the money!"
"What about you? Didn’t you just buy a new phone last week?"
"You’re the one who said you wanted to renovate your house!"
The polite masks they once wore shattered completely.
Adam sat quietly, his phone in hand, the faint glow of the screen reflecting in his eyes as he scrolled through the ssages.
He said nothing. Only watched. Only... screenshotted everything.
Eventually, after endless arguing, they reached a so-called agreent.A man nad Trent would receive the money.
The mont Adam saw that, a faint, cold smile appeared on his lips.
Without hesitation, he sent a series of screenshots into the group. ssages. Proof.
Conversations clearly showing that Trent didn’t actually need the money, he simply wanted to buy a car and a house.
The group fell silent. Then chaos erupted again.
"You lied to us?!"
"So you were just acting pitiful?!"
"You don’t even need the money!"
As Adam pointed out the chat history calmly, everyone suddenly realized sothing.
He had been watching. From the very beginning.
A suffocating embarrassnt spread through the group. They had exposed themselves. Completely.
So, unable to bear the humiliation, lashed out.
"If you didn’t want to lend money, you could’ve just said so!"
"Why humiliate us like this?!"
"This is too much!"
Others quickly agreed, trying to shift the bla. Adam stared at the ssages, his expression unreadable.
Then, a quiet chuckle rose in his throat, though his eyes remained cold.
He began typing. "Honestly... I have a lot to say."
The typing indicator blinked. "But let start with this."
His fingers paused for a mont. "When my daughter needed surgery... I begged all of you."
The group went still. "You all disappeared."
Each word landed heavily. "I told you I would repay you a hundred tis over."
No response. "And now... you co to like this?"
A long pause. "At least be honest."
That was all. After sending that, Adam didn’t wait. One by one, he blocked them all.
Acquaintances. Friends. Neighbors. Everyone. Silence returned. But it was a different kind of silence this ti. Cleaner.
Not all of them were entirely unreasonable. So had only tried their luck, hoping to take advantage of his success.
But once Adam shut them down firmly, the fragile connections between them shattered.
Conflicts broke out among them even after he left. Argunts. Bla. Resentnt.
Adam, however, felt nothing but disgust. ’This... is what they were all along.’
Still, there was one exception. Jared.
Jared believed he had the right to ask. Once, he had been Adam’s best friend. Or at least... that’s what Adam had believed.
Back then, when Adam needed money the most, Jared had refused.
He had stood by, watching as Adam struggled, as he took on massive debt just to save Aurora.
"I understand your situation," Jared had said at the ti. "I’ll definitely help next ti."
But when that "next ti" ca... He gave nothing. Not a single penny. Now, however, things were different.
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