Chapter 4

After Oliver fell asleep, Megan was the first to step out of the room.

"Luke, let's talk."

"We should talk." I stared at her. "Tell me the truth. Where did the $12,000 a month go?"

"I told you, I only got $2,000!" Her emotions started to rise again. "Do you have someone else out there?"

"No, I don't." I forced myself to stay patient. "Megan, we've been married for six years. I work hard for you and Oliver. How could I possibly only give you $2,000?"

"But the facts are that I got $2,000!" She pulled out her phone. "If you don't believe me, let's go to the bank and check the statement right now!"

"Fine. Let's go now."

Megan clearly did not expect me to agree so readily, and she froze for a moment. "Oliver is still on an IV drip..."

"There's a nurse watching him. We'll go and come back quickly. The bank closes at 4:30, we still have time."

Megan still looked unhappy. "Oliver is still on an IV drip, and you actually have time to go to the bank?"

"Precisely because of that, I have to figure this out." I walked ahead. "If you don't want to go, I'll go myself."

"Wait!" She hurried after me. "I'm going!"

At the bank, I directly requested the transfer records.

The teller quickly confirmed: Sir, for nearly six years, you have transferred $12,000 to Megan on the 15th of every month without interruption.

"Impossible!" Megan screamed, slamming her phone onto the counter. "Look at my records! I only receive $2,000 every month!"

The teller looked troubled and suggested she log into her mobile banking app and verify it on the spot.

When Megan entered the password, her fingers were shaking a little. On the screen, the records from the last three months still showed $2,000, but when she scrolled farther back, all those $2,000 entries disappeared and became $12,000.

"I clearly remember it was $2,000..." she murmured, her face going pale.

"If the actual amount you received does not match the system records, I suggest you contact the police. This may involve financial fraud," the teller said with a polite smile.

"No... no need to call the police." Megan shook her head in panic and forced out a smile. "Maybe... maybe I remembered wrong."

"Remembered wrong?" I looked at her. "For six straight years, every single month?"

"Luke, what do you mean? Are you saying I lied on purpose? What would I gain from that? Oliver is my son too!"

"So what are you after?" I said slowly. "I just want to know why Oliver is so malnourished that he ended up in the hospital."

Megan's eyes darted away. Just then, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, and her face turned even uglier. She directly hung up. "It's a sales call.

" She grabbed her bag. "Since the bank records show $12,000, then maybe I remembered wrong. Let's go back."

She turned and walked off quickly. Watching her almost panicked back, the last bit of warmth in my heart completely froze over.

Back in the room, Oliver was already awake. I asked what he usually ate, and he said softly, "Porridge, bagels, and sometimes some greens. Meat is very rare. Mom says meat is expensive, and we can only eat it once a week, just a few small pieces each time."

I looked toward Megan by the window. She had her back to us, and her shoulders were trembling slightly.

"Megan, with your $4,000 monthly salary, plus the $12,000 I send, after the $3,000 mortgage, the remaining money still isn't enough for even a meal with meat for the child?"

She turned around, her eyes swollen red. "Luke, is that really how you see me? I scrimp and save to keep this family running, and this is how you question me?"

Her words were cut off by a doctor entering the room. Dr. Hayes from nutrition came in holding a medical chart, his face grim. "The child's condition is very serious. He has been in a long-term state of semi-starvation. Is your family in serious financial trouble?"

"No." I answered for Megan and listed our income and mortgage.

Dr. Hayes furrowed his brows tightly. "Then that should not be the case. Nutritional intervention must start immediately, or it will affect the child for the rest of his life.

During hospitalization, meals with proper nutrition will cost about $500 a day, and after discharge it will still be around $3,000 a month for at least a year, bringing the total to around $50,000."

"Money is not the problem," I said.

But Megan murmured, "$50,000... where are we supposed to get $50,000?"

I opened my mobile banking app and turned the screen toward her. Balance: $230,000.

Megan's eyes widened suddenly, and her lips moved, but no sound came out.

I looked into her eyes and said very calmly, "I transfer $12,000 to you every month and keep $6,000 for myself. This is money I saved by working for eight years, living frugally. Megan, if I really only gave you $2,000, how could I possibly have saved this little myself?"

The room was terrifyingly quiet, and the last trace of color drained from Megan's face. She opened her mouth.

In the end, not a single word came out.