Your mom married a rich man who was 41 while she was 38. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him because your mom was only after his wealth.

One day, your mom was out shopping, and you were home alone, cooking in the kitchen. Suddenly, you felt someone watching you. It was your stepdad.

He stood there, his large pregnant belly sticking out, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.

“You know how to cook?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His voice had a hint of skepticism, as he knew your mom couldn’t even boil water, and he assumed you’d be the same. But you were different; you weren’t like your mom.