Overwhelmed with gratitude, Kevin burst into tears.

“Michelle, I will definitely repay your kindness.”

Inspired by his words, I worked even harder every day. I went out to secure new contracts, striving to minimize labor costs by working on site myself.

Seeing my relentless work, one of my employees approached me.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard. Let us help with what we can.”

I took his words to heart and began delegating more tasks. Gradually, the company steadily grew, and the number of employees increased.

However, in exchange, I drastically cut back on my personal life. I refrained from buying new clothes and worked even on holidays. Yet whenever I saw Kevin thriving in medical school, all my fatigue seemed to vanish.

However, Kevin’s acceptance into medical school gradually changed our parents.

The first sign of change was at a family memorial service.

“Our Kevin has been accepted into medical school,” my mother proudly told each relative.

With each telling, she received praises like “impressive” and “how commendable,” and her face lit up with pride.

When an aunt asked, “Is Michelle still in the cleaning business?” my mother’s face clouded over slightly, and she answered vaguely.

“Well, yes.”

My father also changed. He began to bring up Kevin at his weekly chess gatherings.

“My son says he’s going to be a neurosurgeon.”

“Ah, your son is really something else.”

The accolades from his peers seemed to inflate his ego gradually.

One evening during dinner, while I was discussing a new contract at work, my father interjected.

“Michelle, how long do you plan to keep doing that kind of job?”

My mother chimed in.

“Right. Kevin’s classmate might introduce him to a medical office job. It’s much better than cleaning.”

My heart froze at my mother’s dismissive reference to my job as just cleaning.

As Kevin’s performance in medical school became known for its excellence, our parents’ attitudes escalated further. They began to boast to our neighbors and at the hospital during his internships.

“Our son is so well regarded by the doctors. He might stay on at the University Hospital.”

My mother’s voice would rise with each story.

During the end-of-year cleaning, as I tried to teach some professional cleaning tips, my mother looked at me with a hesitant expression.

“Michelle, it seems this kind of job suits you.”

My father even began planning his retirement, banking on Kevin’s future success.

“Once Kevin becomes a doctor, we won’t have to worry about our old age. Working at a big hospital, he’ll easily make over $200,000 a year,” he speculated.

Conversations at home gradually revolved solely around Kevin. I felt as if my existence was fading into the background.

At family gatherings, my mother started avoiding topics about my work.

“Michelle is, well, she’s managing,” she would say quickly, followed by, “But Kevin…”

One day at a neighborhood Christmas party, a decisive moment came.

“Your son is in medical school? That’s really impressive,” a neighbor commented.

My mother responded proudly, “Yes, perhaps it’s a result of our upbringing. We’ve inspired him to pursue a dream in health care.”

I was shocked by her expression. At that moment, it seemed my daily efforts to pay his tuition had been erased from my parents’ memory.

My decision to leave home stemmed from these experiences. Keeping a reasonable distance, I managed to maintain a relationship with my family.

However, a significant event soon shattered our family dynamic.

It began in the autumn of Kevin’s senior year in medical school. Kevin started dating a fellow medical student, Tiffany. They met during an internship at the university hospital. She was talented and beloved by everyone.

Kevin was instantly smitten.

“Tiffany is the only daughter of a family that runs one of the top general hospitals in New York.”

Kevin’s voice over the phone held a note of pride. It turned out her father was the director of a general hospital.

“That’s amazing, but I’d like to know more about her. Can you introduce me sometime?”

“Ah, yeah, sure. But it’s exam period now, so maybe later.”

This exchange was repeated many times. Even after a year of dating, I had yet to meet Tiffany.

At first, I didn’t mind. Medical school is busy, and I was busy with work too. But a sense of discomfort lingered.

One day, on my way home from work, I accidentally saw Kevin and Tiffany in front of a high-end restaurant, chatting happily. Just as I was about to call out to them, I saw Kevin’s expression darken. He hurriedly ushered Tiffany inside the restaurant, pretending not to notice me.

At that moment, I couldn’t understand why my brother was avoiding me.

Then that call came.

“Michelle, about this year’s Christmas party,” my mother’s voice carried an unusual weight. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t come this year.”

I was taken aback for a moment, doubting what I just heard.