Chapter 3

The night breeze was cool on my face, but it couldn't calm the restless heat and doubts burning inside me.

The ATM booth was bathed in harsh white light.

It was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the machine.

I took a deep breath, trying hard to keep my hands from shaking.

I slowly slid the unfamiliar bank card into the slot.

The screen lit up, displaying the interface: [Please enter your PIN.]

Ethan's words echoed in my mind. "The PIN is your birthday."

My birthday. Four digits.

I reached out, my fingers pressing each of those four familiar numbers onto the cold metal keypad, one after another. Confirm.

The screen switched. It showed: [Processing your request, please wait.]

Those few seconds dragged on, feeling like an eternity.

My heart was pounding in my throat.

How much could be in there? Tens of thousands? Or even a hundred thousand?

No matter the amount, the money definitely felt shady.

Finally, the screen flashed onto the account info page.

I stared, my eyes locked onto the "Account Balance" field.

There it was.

The number made my heart skip a beat.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

I leaned in closer, squinting at the screen, reading each digit one by one: ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousand, hundred thousand, million.

And right in front of the number was a striking, blood-red symbol: "-".

That was a minus sign.

The account balance was negative 1.7 million.

My mind went completely blank.

How come it's negative? 1.7 million in the red?

This wasn't a debit card. It was a credit card, and not merely maxed out, but blown way past the limit, deep in the red.

My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely hold onto the ATM.

A bone-chilling cold shot up my spine, making my hair stand on end.

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. I was freezing from head to toe.

This wasn't money meant to honor me at all. It was a carefully laid trap.

It was a massive debt black hole, big enough to swallow me whole.

Why would Ethan do this?

After the shock hit me like a freight train, my mind went into overdrive.

My accountant instincts kicked in, taking over.

Ethan handed me a credit card registered under his name, maxed out and deep in debt.

So what was next? Would he cancel the card? No, he wouldn't.

Maybe he'd call the police and claim the card was stolen. That was totally possible!'

He could say the card ended up with me, that I stole it, or swindled it from him.

He could even accuse me of making all those fraudulent charges.

And now, this card was in my hands.

I checked the balance at the ATM, and there was surveillance here.

I used this card. There was no way I could talk my way out of this.

Here I was, a sixty-year-old woman, suddenly saddled with a debt of 1.7 million. My 700 thousand in retirement savings would be frozen on the spot and used to pay off the debt.

And that's not all. The bank would sue me, chasing after the remaining 1 million.

Everything I owned: my pension, my house, would all be swallowed up by this bottomless pit.

How cruel. What a poisonous trap.

In that moment, any last shred of hope I had for Ethan was completely obliterated.

He wasn't trying to make up for Jenny's mistakes. He'd been on her side all along.

He was even greedier and more malicious than Jenny.

Jenny only wanted my money. But Ethan wanted my life. He was out to bleed me dry, to drain every last drop from me.

Overwhelming rage and icy terror clamped around my heart, making it hard to breathe.

I wanted to scream, to slam this damned card to the floor and grind it to dust beneath my heel. But I held myself back, swallowing the urge.

I clamped my teeth on my lip, hard enough to draw blood.

Years as an accountant had drilled into me one thing: the more dangerous the situation, the calmer I had to be.

Getting angry wouldn't fix anything. Panicking would only make me play right into their hands.

With trembling hands, I pressed the "Eject Card" button. The card slid out slowly.

I didn't reach for it.

I stared at the dome-shaped security camera above the ATM, its faint red light blinking as it watched me.

Suddenly, I knew exactly what I had to do.

I reached out and carefully held the edge of the bank card between my index and middle fingers.

Throughout, I made sure my fingerprints never touched the front or back of the card.

Then, I slowly lifted the card up to the camera, making sure both sides were fully visible.

With that move, I was silently telling the camera: I had seen this card clearly.

Next, I grabbed my wallet and fished out my own ID.

I held my ID and the credit card together right against my chest, so the camera could get a good look at both.

I was making it clear that I, Luna, was the one standing here.

Once I was done, I carefully slipped the card back into the compartment of my wallet, still holding it between two fingers.

It was no longer a bank card. It was evidence.

This was the incriminating evidence Ethan had handed me himself, meant to destroy me.