Chapter 21: Her Rise, Their Rage

Chapter 21: Her Rise, Their Rage
The moment Delilah took a bite, her lips pressed into a thin line. The food tasted like cardboard. Cold, bland, and dry. But even worse was the storm brewing inside her. She hadn’t been eating much lately, not since everything about Elira began changing.

A few feet away, Elira casually pulled out three hundred dollars to pay for something—like it was nothing. Delilah's stomach twisted. That kind of money? It was equivalent to her mother’s entire monthly salary. For Delilah, it was an amount she had to think twice about spending over several months. But for Elira… it was just pocket change.

Delilah's eyes followed Elira, who walked calmly back into her room. Her entire outfit was designer—head to toe. Every piece looked expensive, polished, and beautiful. Delilah stared with disbelief.

When had Elira become this person?

Once upon a time, Elira was beneath her. Always hunched, timid, never daring to lift her head, never speaking up. Delilah used to be the center, the confident one. But now? Elira wasn’t just walking straighter—she was walking taller. And her beauty? It had sharpened with her weight loss, making her glow in a way Delilah couldn’t ignore.

The gap between them was growing—and Delilah couldn’t stand it.

Her jaw clenched. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the chopsticks, but she couldn’t bring herself to eat another bite. Furious and restless, she slammed the utensils down, stood up, and marched back to her room.

“So what if Elira earns money? So what if she’s thin and pretty?” Delilah whispered bitterly to herself. “Her grades are trash.”

Delilah smirked as she sat at her desk.

Let her strut around now. When university admissions come, we’ll see who wins.

Delilah knew her grades were good enough to land her in a top school. She imagined herself walking through the halls of a prestigious university, polished and proud. She’d have a respectable job, work in a shiny building, and wear sleek blazers. People would admire her.

As for Elira? With her poor scores? Delilah scoffed. She wouldn’t even get into a third-rate school. Even if she made some money now, what future would she really have?

That thought finally soothed Delilah's ego. She took a deep breath and opened her textbook.

But elsewhere in the house, another storm was brewing.



Elena stomped into Frank’s room uninvited.

He was sitting at his desk, fully focused on the computer. His fingers clicked the mouse slowly as he scanned something on the screen.

“What are you using the computer for?” Elena barked. “Isn’t a phone enough? What do you need this for, huh?”

Frank stayed quiet, already sensing the lecture coming.

“Let me tell you something,” she continued, hands on her hips. “Your aunt’s son got a computer, and now all he does is play games. Day and night! He used to be top of his class, but now he’s just a dropout. Plays until 2 a.m., sleeps through school, and your aunt is being summoned by teachers like a criminal. Her blood pressure is always high now, and she even fought with your uncle last week.”

Elena crossed her arms proudly, pleased by someone else's misery.

“During New Year, that woman was boasting her son would go to Paragon University. Now? Ha! Lucky if any school will take him.”

She leaned over. “Frank, you better not let me down. You’re my hope. You better get into a top university. Don’t end up like that disgrace.”

Frank gave a tired sigh. “Mom, I’m not playing games. I’m learning programming. I want to earn money like Elira. And I only study on weekends, so it won’t affect my grades.”

Elena paused. She had been ready to scold, but now her eyes flickered with greed. “You can earn money? Really?”

She looked at the laptop again. “How much did your sister spend on this computer?”

Frank hesitated. He knew saying the number would only spark more trouble. But then he lifted his chin, unwilling to hide it. “Eighteen hundred.”

Elena gasped so hard she nearly lost her breath. “Eighteen hundred? For this thing?!”

She trembled with rage. “She spent eighteen hundred and only gave me 300? I slaved to raise that girl! Fed her! Clothed her! And now she talks back and gives me scraps?”

“She said she wouldn’t give me even a penny again. What kind of child says that? Isn’t she afraid of karma?”

Frank clenched his jaw. He shut his eyes. He couldn’t listen anymore. “Mom, I need to study.”

But Elena was just getting started. “Study? No. Go and ask your sister for money. Tell her it’s for the family.”

Frank’s voice turned cold. “That money is hers. She worked for it.”

“What do you mean, hers?” Elena hissed. “I’m her mother! Her money is mine! I raised her! It’s her duty to support me. Are you that dense?”

She pointed dramatically. “You eat, don’t you? You wear clothes? You use water and electricity in this house. We’re all suffering, and she’s dressing up like royalty.”

Frank stood his ground. “Then I’ll get a summer job. I’ll support myself.”

That was the final blow.

Elena exploded again, screaming that she had raised a bunch of ungrateful children. That none of them cared about their mother. That they only wanted to waste money and pretend they were better.

She yelled louder—deliberately, so Elira could hear every poisonous word through the walls.

It wasn’t until William called her away that the room fell silent.

Frank sat still. The air around him was heavy.

And just like that… he forgot all about the post.



Monday arrived.

Elira had a major math exam—it was the last big test before the national college entrance exams.

As she prepared, Frank leaned close, hopeful. “Sis, can you get a perfect score?”

Elira’s eyes sparkled. “Want to see me get one?”

He grinned. “Then do it. Don’t give them a reason to laugh at you.”

Elira smiled back. “Watch me.”

Touched, Frank handed her two boiled eggs. “Boiled eggs won’t make you fat.”

He had woken up early just to make them for her.

All morning, Frank could barely focus. He kept thinking about the exam… and the forum post he’d left untouched since last night.

After lunch, he hurried to his favorite tree near the track. With trembling fingers, he opened the forum app.

His heart skipped.

The post had exploded.

Over 30,000 comments.
10,000 shares.
Hundreds of thousands of likes.

And the replies?

Famous professors.
University students.
Math experts.

They were all analyzing the answer… but more than that, they were trying to find him.

He was the most sought-after person on the entire platform.

And then he saw it.

A private message. From someone named Flynn.

Flynn.

His idol.

Frank froze.

He clicked.

“I’m Flynn. Can you reply?”

More messages followed.

“I saw your post. Can we discuss the solution?”
“Can I have your contact info?”
“Are you there?”
“If now isn’t a good time, we can schedule.”
“Waiting for your reply…”

Frank stared, heart pounding wildly.

Flynn had been waiting for him.
And Elira’s test was still happening.

Just then, in the quiet classroom, the invigilator looked up with surprise.

A student had raised their hand—requesting to submit their paper.
Only halfway through the first period.

All heads turned.

It was Elira.

The invigilator's brows furrowed.

And then—he slowly stood up.