Chapter 2
I started frantically trying to borrow money.
I called everyone in my contacts, humbled myself, and pleaded with anyone who might possibly lend me some cash.
Most of the replies were just silence or people deflecting, making excuses.
"Seventy thousand dollars? Chloe, it's not that I don't want to help, but I'm really strapped for cash right now..."
"Isn't your husband making a million dollars a year? Why are you out here asking for money?"
Yeah, my husband made a million dollars a year, but he wouldn't lend me a single cent.
I just couldn't bring myself to say that out loud.
After three days, I'd only managed to scrape together twenty thousand dollars.
I was still fifty thousand dollars short.
Out of options, my mind went to the only keepsake my mom ever left me—a flawless bracelet.
It had been passed down from my grandma to my mom, and then my mom gave it to me when I got married.
She told me it was a family heirloom, something I should one day give to my own daughter.
I promised myself I'd never let it go unless I had absolutely no other choice.
But right now, nothing mattered more than saving my mom's life.
My eyes were red as I unlocked the jewelry box deep in my nightstand.
I stuck the key in and twisted it.
As soon as I opened the box, I froze.
It was empty.
My bracelet was gone.
Not just the bracelet, my debit card, with the thirty thousand dollars I'd spent five years saving up, was gone too.
A cold wave rushed up my spine, making my scalp tingle.
There was no sign of a break-in. There was only one explanation left...
I didn't dare let my mind go there.
I rushed into the living room like a madwoman, only to find Ethan lounging on the couch, sipping his coffee like nothing was wrong.
"Ethan! Where's my bracelet? And what about the money in my bank account?" My voice was so shrill, it didn't even sound like me.
He didn't even bother to look up.
"What bracelet? What money? Chloe, what's gotten into you?" he said.
"The bracelet and the bank card I kept in my jewelry box! Did you take them?" I demanded.
He finally set his coffee down, frowning at me, his eyes full of disgust.
"Are you nuts? Why would I even want some crappy bracelet and a junk card? Are they even worth one thousand dollars together?
"Chloe, I'm warning you. Stop making baseless accusations, and don't bring your broke-ass mindset around me. It's disgusting."
His words made me feel cold all over.
Suddenly, it hit me. I rushed to the door and checked the security camera we'd set up to keep our stuff safe.
The camera was connected to the cloud, saving the last seven days of footage.
My hands were shaking as I dragged the progress bar.
Yesterday at three in the afternoon, I was still at work.
Ethan snuck into our bedroom, acting all sneaky.
He didn't even bother with the key. He just used a wire to pick the lock on my jewelry box, as if it were child's play.
He pulled out the bracelet, held it up to the light, and smirked with a look of contempt.
Then he grabbed my debit card.
I cranked the volume all the way up.
"Sophia, that Hermès bag you want—doesn't it need some extra spending to qualify? I've got this bracelet here. It should be worth quite a bit toward it. There's thirty thousand dollars on the card too. I'll transfer it all to you. The PIN is your birthday.
"Chloe? Please. She's useless. Honestly, letting her keep a little dignity by taking her stuff is me being generous."
My phone slipped from my hand and crashed to the floor, the screen splintering into shards.
It felt like my blood had turned to ice.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
It was Sophia, Ethan's dream girl.
She sent me a photo.
In the picture, she was all dolled up, and on her wrist was my family heirloom bracelet.
Behind her was the wall of a Hermès store, and right next to her was a brand-new orange box.
The caption: [Thanks, babe! I love the bag and the accessories you got me.]
Right below, Ethan had liked the post and commented: [Glad you like it.]
I stared at that photo and laughed.
As I laughed, tears rolled down my cheeks.
That was the money that could've saved my mom's life.