Ten years after falling out with my father, he got sick.
My spoiled younger brother dumped him at the hospital without a second thought.
For the last three years of his life, it was my million-dollar savings keeping him alive.
In his final month, I stumbled across his will.
A check for ten million dollars—to my brother.
A handwritten birthday card—to me.
He avoided my eyes.
"The inheritance was always meant for your brother. You're the one who chose to come home and take care of me.
"You ran away all those years ago because Dad only cared about your brother and ignored you, didn't you?
"Now I'm lying here sick, and all I'm giving you is a card. Why are you upset?"
I laughed.
Tore the card to shreds and ground it under my heel.
Then turned and walked out of the hospital room.
"Pull the ventilator. We're done treating him."
——
"Sir, are you saying you want all equipment removed? The patient will suffer greatly!"
"Sir, your father just finished chemotherapy—he can't handle this!"
"That's right. Remove it. Discharge him now."
I strode toward the exit without another word.
My father stared at me in disbelief.
My brother slammed his palm on the table.
He clutched the freshly signed will, trembling with righteous fury.
"Have you lost your mind? Dad's in this condition and you want to strip away all his medical equipment? Send him home to die?
"How can you be so heartless! I won't allow this!"
My father's eyes reddened as he looked at me.
I turned back.
Looked at this brother who'd shown up exactly twice since Dad got sick.
And let out a cold laugh.
"I need your permission?
"From day one of Dad's illness, I paid the medical bills. I bought the supplements.
"I'm the one paying the caregiver twenty-eight thousand a month. Have you contributed a single cent?
"Now I don't want to pay anymore. Everything I'm funding—I'm pulling it. Got a problem with that?"
"I—"
My brother choked.
Then his eyes went red.
"No! I can't watch Dad suffer! You can't do this!"
"Fine. I won't."
I made an inviting gesture.
"This room plus all the equipment runs thirty thousand a month. You cover it, and Dad stays. Go ahead."
"I..."
His face flushed.
His fingers tightened around the will.
Dad started coughing.
He looked at me the same way he always had—with disappointment.
"Your brother just graduated. How can you expect him to pay? You've been working for years. You have money but won't spend it, and all you do is bully your brother.
"Fine. You won't pay for treatment? Then don't. I raised an ungrateful wretch. Sorry for being such a burden. I'll leave on my own."
He climbed out of bed.
His frail body made it two steps before he collapsed at the doorway.
Everyone in the corridor saw.
My brother rushed over and dropped to his knees beside him, tears streaming down his face.
"Dad lost Mom when we were three. All these years, he was both father and mother to us. He worked himself into the ground for us. And you're throwing him out over medical bills?
"How can you be so heartless!"
A crowd gathered instantly.
Dad's eyes welled up.
"I know raising children doesn't guarantee care in old age. This is my own fault. You don't have to throw me out—I'll go home and wait to die on my own."
"Oh, sir, please get up!"
A young woman rushed forward to help him stand.
One look at his skeletal frame and her eyes glistened with tears.
"How can you do this to your own father? Treat the elderly like this now, and don't expect anyone to care for you when you're the one bedridden!"
