Chapter 2
The subway wasn't crowded.
I found a seat in the corner, took out my phone, and opened my banking app.
Twenty-one million dollars had landed in my account.
A long string of zeros lined up on the screen.
I counted them twice to make sure I wasn't mistaken.
I dimmed the screen brightness all the way down, worried someone next to me might see and call the police.
What did 21 million dollars represent?
My salary as a dietitian at Morales Medical Center was 4 thousand dollars.
Without spending a cent, it would take me 4,375 years to save that much.
And now, it was sitting in my account.
I leaned back against the seat, exhaling slowly.
Then I made a decision.
When I got off the subway, I didn't bother searching for a cheap rental.
I hailed a taxi and went to Belleview Gardens on the west side.
I'd had my eye on this development for a while. It was along the river, with garden duplexes. The ground-floor units had private gardens. It was quiet, private, and perfect for raising kids.
Before, whenever I passed by, I'd just take a look and leave. I didn't even have the nerve to walk into the sales office.
But today was different.
When I walked into the sales office, the receptionist sized me up. Her smile was polite, but her eyes were skeptical.
"Good afternoon. What kind of unit are you looking for? Our smallest units start at 3 million dollars," she said.
She made sure to stress the "3 million dollars."
I said, "Not the small ones. Any ground-floor villas with a private garden left?"
Her smile froze for a split second.
"Those units range from 8 million to 10 million dollars, depending on the view and size. Would you like to learn more first, or..." she asked.
"I'd like to see one," I said.
She probably thought I was wasting her time, but she took me there anyway.
The living room had soaring ceilings, and the floor-to-ceiling windows looked right out onto the garden, with a view of the river. All three bedrooms faced south, and the master had a walk-in closet.
I lingered in the garden for a bit, imagining my three kids tumbling and laughing on the grass.
"How much is this one?" I asked.
"9 million dollars," she replied.
"What's the discount if I pay in full?" I asked.
The receptionist finally lost her composure, her face plainly showing she thought I was wasting her time.
"Miss, if you pay in full, you can get a 2% discount, but you'll need to show proof of funds first," she said.
I pulled out my phone, opened my banking app, and held it out for her to see.
She glanced down at the screen.
Then she looked up at me.
She looked down again.
"Just a moment, miss. I'll call our manager right away," she said.
Three minutes later, the manager brought out a cup of coffee for me.
"Good afternoon, Miss. Please, have a seat. This garden duplex is the signature model for our entire project. You have excellent taste," he said.
Half an hour later, I paid the deposit with my card.
The whole process usually took about a week, but the manager said he could rush it for me, just three days.
By the time I walked out of the sales office, the sky was getting dark. The evening breeze coming off the river was cool and comfortable.
I stood on the sidewalk and called my mom, Kiara Corbin.
"Annie, did you have lunch?" she asked.
"Yeah. Mom, I have something to tell you. I moved out of the Morales' residence. The deal's done," I said.
There was a brief silence on the other end.
"Fine. Are you okay for money?" she asked.
"I'm fine. Mom, I bought a house," I said.
"You bought a house?" My mom's voice jumped. "Where'd you get the money for that?"
"He gave me some compensation," I said.
"How much?" she asked.
"Enough for a house," I replied.
My mom went quiet for a moment, probably digesting the news.
"Alright. It's your choice. Your dad and I will come over this weekend to take a look," she said.
"Okay," I said.
After hanging up, I looked down and gently touched my belly.
"Babies, I bought you a house with a garden. Now you'll have a place to soak up the sun," I murmured.
*****
For the three days before the house was ready, I stayed at a hotel right next to Belleview Gardens.
It wasn't some luxury hotel, just a clean business hotel.
But the bed was big and the comforter was soft. There was no one in the next room opening and closing doors at three in the morning or anyone at breakfast giving me looks that made me feel out of place.
I finally got the most peaceful sleep I had had in a year.
The next day, I hit the mall and grabbed a couple of maternity outfits. Nothing fancy, but the fabric was soft, and they looked good on me.
After that, I swung by the baby store, pushing a cart and tossing in everything my three kids would need.
Three bottles, three baby blankets, and three newborn onesies.
As I walked out with my cart piled high, the evening sun warmed my face, making everything feel cozy.
During my year at the Morales' residence, I had never bought a single thing I wanted for myself.
It wasn't that I couldn't afford it. I just never felt like I deserved it.
Now it was different.
I had 21 million dollars, three children, and a house with a garden.
I didn't need anyone's permission, and I sure didn't need their attitude.
On move-in day, I set my backpack on the brand-new sofa, walked barefoot onto the grass in the garden, and took a deep breath.
"Babies, we're home," I said.
Meanwhile, over at the Morales' residence, the maid stood in the living room, her voice shaky as she faced Eloise, fresh from her spa appointment.
"Mrs. Morales, Ms. Corbin is gone," the maid said.
"Gone?" Eloise took off her sunglasses, her tone as casual as if discussing what to have for dinner. "She should've left ages ago. Did she clean up after herself?"
"She didn't take anything. Her clothes, toiletries, and even the card for household expenses you gave her. She left it all behind. Just walked out with a backpack," the maid replied.
Eloise froze for a second.
She walked into the guest room.
The right side of the closet was empty.
Not the kind of emptiness left by a removal, but rather a space that had never held much to begin with.
On the shoe rack, her hospital ID badge and spare keys were neatly arranged.
On the nightstand, there was a half-empty bottle of stomach medicine.
There was no note.
Eloise stared at the bottle for a few seconds, feeling like something was off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"Ungrateful," she muttered, closing the closet door and walking out.
Cassidy Perry dropped by that evening.
She wore a white knit dress, her makeup flawless, and brought in Eloise's favorite soup. Sitting upright on the sofa, she looked perfectly composed.
"Eloise, I heard Annie left?" Cassidy asked.
"She's gone." Eloise snorted. "Left without a fuss. At least she knew when to bow out gracefully."
"Don't be too hard on her. She spent a whole year by Randal's side," Cassidy said, gently stirring the soup, her tone soft and gracious.
Callie came running down the stairs, a straw hanging from her mouth.
"Cassidy, don't waste your breath defending her. Can you believe my brother gave her 21 million dollars?" Callie said.
Cassidy stopped stirring the soup mid-motion.
21 million dollars?
When she had sent that email, she hadn't mentioned the money at all.
Had Orville executed it based on the agreement's terms?
That didn't make sense either.
Without direct instruction from Randal, how would Orville dare initiate the process?
Unless he never bothered to check. The email came from Randal's account, so Orville assumed it was really him.
21 million dollars. Just like that, it was transferred.
Cassidy's nails dug into her palm.
But she quickly forced a smile, pushing her emotions down.
No matter what, Annie was gone now; that was all Cassidy needed.
Meanwhile, at the Thompson Hotel, Randal's room, his assistant Derek Garrett had just dropped off the notice about the flight change.
As he was leaving, he added casually, "By the way, Mr. Morales, while you were gone, Ms. Perry came by your office twice. She said she needed some files for the joint project."
Randal didn't think much of it.
Once Derek left, Randal opened his email to look up some papers.
He glanced at the Sent folder.
The top email was sent three days ago.
The recipient was Annie.
Its subject concerned the termination of the agreement.
He hadn't sent this email.
He clicked it open, read through it, and his expression went from confused to completely blank, then to something he couldn't even put into words.
He picked up the phone.
"Change my flight. Book me on the next available one tonight," he said.
Eleven hours later, Randal stood at the doorway of the guest room at the Morales' residence.
The right side of the closet was empty.
The rinsing cup on the sink was gone.
The curtains were neatly arranged, as if no one had ever lived there.
The bottle of stomach medicine was still on the nightstand.
He picked it up. It was almost empty. He gave it a shake; just a few pills clinked around inside.
He turned to the maid.
"Who bought this medicine?" he asked.
The maid paused.
"It was Annie. She always went to the pharmacy herself," she replied.
Randal's grip on the bottle tightened.
"Where did she go?" he asked.