Chapter 2

"Look, I am telling you this for the last time. The payment must clear before this Friday."

"Mia's condition cannot wait any longer. Next Wednesday is the optimal surgical window. If we miss this window and her infection markers spike again, we’ll have to postpone for at least three weeks."

"What happens if we wait three weeks?"

The attending surgeon paused.

"To put it conservatively, the mortality risk doubles."

I gripped the arms of the chair until my knuckles turned white.

"What is the total cost?"

"Surgery plus post-op intensive care is estimated at $300,000. An upfront deposit of $200,000 must be fully cleared by Friday before close of business to secure the OR."

Walking out of the office, the sharp smell of antiseptic burned my throat. I was still short $110,000. Logan claimed his business was strapped for cash, and his mother demanded I squeeze my elderly mother dry.

I walked into the quiet stairwell, pulled the door shut, and dialed my mother.

"Nora? How is my little Mia doing?"

"Mom... Mia needs surgery."

"What kind of surgery? Is it dangerous? Let me buy a ticket, I'll take the bus up—"

"Mom, don't travel. I just... I need to ask, how much savings do you have right now?"

The line went quiet for a few seconds.

"I've saved a little over the years, plus what your father left behind when he passed... I have about fifty-two thousand dollars."

Fifty-two thousand dollars. Her entire seventy-two years on this earth, boiled down to one number.

"Is it enough? If it's not enough, I'll sell the house."

"Mom—"

"It's an old house anyway. Selling it should bring in three or four hundred thousand. I can move in with you and help look after Mia."

I sank onto the concrete steps, burying my face in my knees.

"Don't sell the house. Just wire me the savings first. I'll figure out the rest."

"What about Logan? Isn't he helping his own daughter?"

"His business is in a rough patch."

"And what about his parents?"

"Mom, please don't worry about it."

I hung up. My eyes were bone dry. Once you start crying, it’s hard to stop—and right now, I couldn't afford weakness.

In the afternoon, Logan arrived. Dressed in a sharp tailored suit, his leather shoes polished to a mirror shine, holding a thermal flask.

"Rushed straight here from a board meeting. I made chicken soup for Mia."

He gently fed our daughter spoonful by spoonful. "Be good, drink up. You need your strength for surgery."

I sat quietly until Mia finished, then spoke.

"About the surgery deposit. When can you get your share together?"

He set the spoon down with a heavy sigh.

"Every cent in the corporate account is tied up in current projects. The earliest payout won't hit until next month. Why don't you borrow from your mom first? The second my funds clear, I'll pay her back with interest."

"Whose mother do you want me to borrow from?"

"Your mother. Wait, no, I just meant—"

"You spent $470,000 on your credit card this month."

The lid of the thermal container froze in mid-air.

"What?"

"Your card statement. This month. Four hundred and seventy thousand dollars."

His Adam's apple bobbed. Three seconds later, a forced chuckle escaped his lips.

"Honey, those are corporate business expenses. Client entertainment. It goes through the company accounts—I just put it on my personal card first for reward points, and the firm reimburses me later."

"Is an $180,000 Cartier diamond necklace also a corporate expense?"

His smile instantly stiffened. The heart monitor beside Mia’s bed beeped steadily.

"That was a gift for a major client's wife. You don't understand how high-stakes corporate networking works."

"What about The Lotus Spa? Four visits in four weeks, eight grand a pop?"

"Entertaining clients. Some high-profile female partners prefer private wellness retreats."

He glared at me, defensive anger finally breaking through his mask.

"Nora, why are you going through my private statements? Who do you think I'm out there busting my ass for every single day? You don't help bring in a dime, and now you're interrogating me?"

Mia stirred awake.

"Daddy, Mommy... are you fighting?"

Logan’s face transformed instantly. "Of course not, baby. Grown-ups are just talking about work. Come on, finish your soup."

He smoothly derailed the conversation. From that moment on, every time I tried to bring up the bills, he skillfully brushed it aside.

After he left that night, I pulled out my phone and searched for The Lotus Spa. Members-only. Strictly referral-based.

I dug through social media tags until I found a lifestyle influencer's public profile. A private sanctuary specializing in luxury couple retreats.

Her latest post was from three days ago. The photo showed two hands clasped over a plush linen table—the woman’s hand sported milky-white French tips and a gleaming Cartier love bracelet.

Caption: *Little Tuesday bliss.* Location tag: *The Lotus Private Wellness.*

Her face wasn't in the frame. But I recognized that bracelet, and I recognized those nails.

Someone in the comments asked if she was there with her boyfriend. She replied with a shy blushing emoji.

I screenshotted it and moved it to my hidden folder.

Mia called out to me softly in the dark.

"Mommy, will the surgery hurt?"

I gently brushed the hair from her forehead.

"It won't hurt at all. You'll just take a sweet little nap, and when you wake up, it'll all be over."

"Will you stay with me the whole time?"

"Every single second."

She reached out her tiny hand, hooking her pinky around mine.

"Pinky promise."