My Dead Mother's Tin Lunchbox

I had a heart attack and collapsed straight into the fresh, boiling asphalt at the highway construction site. It has been two days.

My body is already bloated from the heat, but my hand, stiff with rigor mortis, is still gripping that old tin lunchbox. People keep passing by, yet no one has noticed me.

Honestly, I’m relieved. After all, I was just a dirty, uneducated old woman who ran a greasy food cart at the construction site. I was an embarrassment.

My daughter, Chloe, always hated how lowclass I was. After her billionaire biological mother claimed her back, I didn't dare to call her even once.

I even chose to die in the middle of the night, just so I wouldn’t bother anyone. It’s okay, Chloe. As long as you are happy, Mom is fine.

My soul floated outside a massive luxury estate. I stared at the mansion, taking in every detail. It was so grand, so beautiful. My Chloe deserved to live in a place like this.

I drifted into her bedroom. Chloe was trying on all kinds of designer princess dresses. Watching her radiant smile, a deep sense of satisfaction filled my ghostly heart.

I had been too poor. I could only afford to buy her a new dress on her birthday. Now that she was back with her real mother, she could finally be a real princess.

But the weather was freezing today, yet Chloe was putting on a tiny miniskirt to go out. I instinctively cried out, "Chloe, it’s freezing outside! You’ll ruin your knees.

Listen to me, put some pants on!" But Chloe didn't look at me. Right. I was already dead. My soul followed my daughter to her high school.

Seeing how stunning she looked, her classmates quickly crowded around her. "Hey, Chloe.

I heard that even though you were raised by kidnappers, they actually treated you like their own. They were poor, but they spoiled you." "Does that mean you have two moms now?

Who do you like more? Your real mom or your adoptive one?" Chloe, who had been smiling a second ago, slammed her textbook onto the floor.

Her face twisted with rage as she screamed, "Shut up! All of you! I don’t have an adoptive mother! She kidnapped me!" "You guys are so naive. That woman was dirt poor.

What kind of 'good life' could I have had?" "Living in that shack with her was an absolute living hell!" Chloe was shaking with anger. My heart, or what was left of it, ached.

It was all my fault. If only I had made more money, she wouldn't have suffered so much. After screaming at her classmates, Chloe tried to act normal during class.

But the moment the bell rang, she hid in the girls' restroom and started sobbing quietly.

I hovered beside her, desperately trying to wipe her tears, but my hands just passed through her. Seeing her cry reminded me of the first time we met.

Fifteen years ago, when I first found Chloe, I was only eighteen. Back then, I was just a waitress at a diner. Someone had left a bundle right by the door in the freezing cold.

So many customers walked past, but nobody cared. The baby kept crying, her tiny face turning purple. It broke my heart. When I picked her up, she was burning hot.

If she kept burning like this, she would get brain damage.

I ran toward the hospital, but my boyfriend at the time, Jason, grabbed my arm. "Heather, are you stupid?" Jason yelled. "That kid is sick! Her own parents threw her away.

Why are you sticking your nose in this?" "We need our savings for our wedding!" His coldness made me shiver. I shook him off and screamed back. "How can you be so heartless?

We can always make more money, but this baby is going to die!" I slapped his hand away and ran as fast as I could to the ER.

At the hospital, the doctor told me it wasn't just a fever. It was meningitis. The doctor named a number for the treatment—a astronomical medical bill.

He asked if I wanted to proceed. Paying that bill meant all my hard work over the years would go down the drain, and I’d be buried in debt.

But looking at her flushed, tiny face, I clenched my teeth and nodded. "Save her." Just like that, the baby lived. And my boyfriend walked out on me.

He said he had never met anyone as stupid as me. But I didn't care. When the baby opened her eyes and gave me a tiny, gummy smile, everything was worth it.

Five years later, Chloe had grown into a chubby, adorable little girl. Like any mother, I sent her to kindergarten. At first, she was thrilled.

She would wake up early every morning and beg me to tie her hair into cute pigtails.

But later on, whenever school was mentioned, her face would fall, and she’d look like she was about to cry.

I knew immediately that someone was picking on her. "Sweetheart, tell Mom. Who’s bothering you?

I'll go set them straight." The moment I asked, tears poured down her cheeks. "Mom... they said I’m a bastard child.

I argued with them." "But they said, 'We all have dads, but you don't. You’re just a nameless stray.'" My heart shattered. I pulled her small body tightly into my arms.

What did little kids know? They were only repeating the nasty things their parents said at home. The neighbors knew I was a single woman who suddenly brought home a baby.

The gossip was relentless. My girl was growing up. She would understand more and more. I couldn’t let her be poisoned by these cruel rumors.

After sleepless nights, I decided we had to move. I was a single woman with a child. Moving all our junk by myself left me drenched in sweat.

Little Chloe took her tiny cartoon handkerchief, stood on her tiptoes, and carefully wiped the sweat from my forehead. "Mom, when I grow up, I’ll help you.

You won’t have to work so hard anymore." With just those words, all the exhaustion vanished from my body. Even now, as a ghost, I remembered the warmth of that moment.

It made my cold, dead corpse feel a little warmer. Time flew. In a flash, Chloe was in high school. But the teenage Chloe was different.

Like many teenage girls, she became deeply insecure and materialistic. She started to feel ashamed of me. She forbade me from picking her up from school.

Looking at my greasy, battered old food truck, I sighed quietly. I didn't blame her. It was my fault for being useless. A mother like me could only bring her shame.

Chloe changed rapidly. Her grades plummeted, and she became obsessed with her looks. She washed her hair every day, refused to wear her school uniform, and wore short skirts.

She even started putting on heavy makeup on her way to school. Unease filled my chest, so I secretly followed her one afternoon. She didn't go to school.

Instead, she walked into a shady pool hall with a guy who looked like a local gang member. I was anxious and angry, but I was terrified of hurting her pride if I burst in.

So, I waited outside in the cold for hours. Finally, the punk walked out, his hand wrapped tightly around Chloe's waist. That hand burned my eyes.

I planned to go home and have a gentle talk with her. But the punk dragged Chloe toward the entrance of a cheap, hourly motel.

Chloe was resisting, trying to pull away, but he kept dragging her inside. I couldn't take it anymore.

I rushed forward, swinging my heavy, wornout purse, hitting the punk over and over again.

I tried to pull my terrified daughter into my arms, but she violently slapped my hand away. "You're disgusting!

Keep your filthy hands off me!" I looked down at my cracked, dirtstained hands. They were dirty. "Why are you stalking me? Are you crazy, Heather?

Can you give me some privacy?!" "That’s my boyfriend! His family is rich, and he’s good to me!

You ruined everything!" So, Chloe was only with him because of money. "Chloe, Mom has money. You just focus on studying.

I can support you." Before I could finish, she cut me off impatiently. "Oh, shut up!

How much can you possibly make?" "You spend all day frying cheap food, flirting with dirty construction workers just to make a buck. I don’t want your filthy money.

It's gross!" Watching her run away, my heart felt like it was being fried in hot oil. My baby girl... is that really how you saw me?

As heartbroken as I was, how could a mother hold a grudge against her own child? But Chloe grew to hate me more and more. She barely spoke a word to me. I tried to understand.

She was just going through a rebellious phase. I knew she was a good girl at heart. She would get over it. But life is cruel. Fate didn't give us a chance to make up.

It was just an ordinary afternoon. I was walking home after a long shift at the food cart.

But our small alley was blocked by luxury cars, surrounded by crowds of whispering neighbors. Panicking, thinking something had happened to Chloe, I ran inside.

The moment I pushed the door open, I saw an elegant, incredibly wealthy woman holding Chloe in her arms, crying and calling her "daughter." I stood frozen.

So Chloe’s biological family was this wealthy. But if they were so rich, why did they abandon her on a cold doorstep when she was a baby?

Before I could ask, the beautiful woman glared at me, her eyes filled with hatred. "You heartless monster!

How could you kidnap my baby?" "Do you know how many years I spent crying, searching for my daughter?" "You're so cunning. You even moved away!

If God hadn't taken pity on me, I would have never found her!" Before I could defend myself, Chloe pointed at me and joined in. "You evil woman! Is your heart made of stone?

My real mom is a billionaire! Why did you make me suffer in poverty with you for fifteen years?" Tears streamed down my face. "Chloe, I didn't kidnap you.

I found you on the street!" "If I knew your mother was rich, I would have returned you instantly. I thought...

I thought they didn't want you." "We moved back then because—" "Save your fake tears!" Chloe screamed, cutting me off. "Mom, let’s go. I never want to see her again.

I don't want to stay in this disgusting place for another second!" Before she stepped out the door, Chloe turned around, her eyes cold. "Don't you dare try to ruin my new life.

You are not my mother. I never want to see your face again." Watching their sleek cars drive away, my heart shattered into pieces. After she left, the tiny house felt utterly empty.

I desperately wanted to go to her and explain: I didn't kidnap you. Someone threw you away. But what good would that do? It would only drive a wedge between her and her real mother.

I had no wealth, no status. I couldn't offer her a bright future. Her biological mother was successful and could give her the best life possible.

But even if her real mother was rich, I couldn't just give up. I wanted to save up. I wanted to buy Chloe a beautiful, heavy, solid gold necklace.

When she got married, she could wear it as a gift from her adoptive mother. I wanted her to have something of her own so no one could look down on her. I worked even harder.

I woke up at 4 AM and slept past midnight, flipping burgers and serving food, just to save enough for the gold.

But the moment I finally saved up $10,000, before I could even get it to her, I died. I couldn't accept it.

Perhaps my regret was so strong that it attracted a wandering spirit passing by the construction site. "Old lady, I know what you're thinking," the spirit whispered. "You want to give that money to your daughter.

I can help you." "But there's no free lunch. I have a condition." "My next life is destined to be miserable. But I can see you have a wealthy destiny in your next reincarnation.

I want to swap fortunes with you." "Deal," I agreed without hesitation. "As long as you get this money to my daughter, I'll give you whatever you want." What did a hard next life matter to me?

My only wish in this life was for Chloe to be happy. The spirit worked fast.

Very quickly, he placed my old tin lunchbox, stuffed with the $10,000, right onto Chloe’s vanity table in her new room.

But when Chloe entered her room and saw the greasy tin lunchbox, she screamed in horror and ran out. "Mom! This lunchbox belongs to Heather! I know it!

Why is this garbage in my room?!" Victoria walked in, frowning. "Sweetheart, you're too young to understand how manipulative these lowclass people can be.

Heather is trying to guilttrip you." "She probably bribed one of the maids to sneak this trash into your room." "Don't worry, baby.

I'll have the butler throw this garbage out right now."

Watching the money I had spent my life blood saving being tossed out like trash, I stomped my ghostly feet in panic. "Don't throw it away! That’s money!

It's $10,000!" "That's the money I saved to buy Chloe her gold!" But no one could hear me. My most precious gift was tossed into the dumpster like worthless garbage.

I wanted to weep, but ghosts have no tears. I could only beat my chest in agonizing silence. Victoria stood in the room, deep in thought. "Chloe, I'm still worried.

The fact that Heather managed to get this inside our house means she has bad intentions.

She might try to blackmail us." "You have graduation parties, college admissions, and highsociety galas ahead of you.

If we don't settle her now, she’ll be a ticking time bomb." "How about this? I’ll go back to that slum with you.

We'll throw some cash at her face and make her sign a contract to leave you alone forever." Chloe nodded in agreement, trusting her biological mother completely. No, Chloe!

Don't listen to her! I raised you for fifteen years. I never wanted anything from you. I just wanted you to be safe and happy! But they couldn't hear me.

They got into their luxury SUV and drove toward our old neighborhood. I thought about how nice it would be to see my old home again.

But then, I remembered my bloated, decaying corpse lying in the asphalt at the construction site. Chloe was always easily frightened. What if my dead body traumatized her?

More importantly, my old diary was still on the wooden table in my room. It detailed exactly how I had rescued her.

If Chloe found out that her biological mother was the one who had abandoned her, their relationship would be ruined. What would Chloe do? Would Victoria turn on her?

I was already dead. Victoria was the only guardian Chloe had left. Desperate, I found the wandering spirit again. "Please, help me!

I'll pay any price!" "Don't let them go back there. I don't want them to see that diary!" But the spirit ignored me, simply shaking his head with an impatient sigh.

During the drive, Victoria kept instructing Chloe on how to deal with poor people like me. "Sweetheart, you must be firm. Do not show any mercy." "This Heather woman is relentless.

We warned her, yet she still dares to harass my daughter." "When we get there, hold your head high.

Throw the cash right at her feet and tell her to get out of your life." Chloe promised she would do exactly that.

I screamed explanations from the heavens, but my voice was lost in the wind.

Finally, I could only sigh. "Chloe, my only wish was for you to have a good life." They soon arrived at my rundown little shack.

No matter how hard they knocked, the door remained shut. "This woman had the nerve to sneak trash into our house, but now she’s too chicken to open the door?" Victoria sneered, kicking open the flimsy, rusted lock.

I had been dead for days. The small house was covered in a thick layer of dust. Both mother and daughter covered their noses in disgust. "Gross.

Chloe, how did you survive in this filthy place?

She was so lazy." "She wasn't always like this," Chloe muttered, looking around. "I don't know why she stopped cleaning lately." "Heather!

Get out here!" Victoria yelled into the empty house. "I brought the money you wanted! Isn't this what you wanted?" Seeing no one in the living room, they walked into my bedroom.

My heart leaped into my throat. "Don't look, Chloe! Please go back!" "It's all my fault.

Why did I have to write a stupid diary and leave it right on the table?" "If only I hadn't had that heart attack..." But my ghostly pleas were useless.

Chloe’s eyes fell on the wornout notebook, and she picked it up. "What is this? Heather kept a journal?

I didn't know she could even write properly." She flipped open the first page. Instantly, she froze. "Someone abandoned a beautiful baby girl at the diner today.

She looks so helpless. I held her, trying to stop her from crying..." Chloe read the words aloud, her voice trembling. "What is this? Mom... you told me she kidnapped me.

But her diary says she rescued me!" "Did you... did you actually abandon me?" Now that the truth was out, Victoria’s elegant facade completely shattered. "Chloe, let me explain...

I had no money back then—" "Stop lying!" Chloe shrieked, tears bursting from her eyes. "You threw me away because I was a burden!" "Heather was the only one who actually loved me!

She is my real mother!" Without looking back, Chloe ran out of the shack, sprinting straight toward the highway construction site where I used to work.

But when she got there, my food truck was gone. Finally, in a patch of fresh, black asphalt, she saw a corner of a familiar jacket sticking out.