Five Years of Fatal Regret

Five years ago I left him at rock bottom. Now he’s a billionaire. Every year I came back for money: year one, with our newborn, he gave $50k; year two, with my terminal cancer report, he gave $100k. I disappeared for years three and four. On the fifth New Year’s Eve, he got a call from the daughter: “Uncle, when will you feed me? Lilith is hungry…”