Chapter 4

Daniel introduced three options in turn: a three-year certificate of deposit, a low-risk net-value financial product, and short-term treasury repos. He focused on the start dates for interest, the redemption rules, and the expected returns for each.

Linda slipped on her reading glasses and studied the printed comparison sheet. She drew a circle around the line that said, "If you cash out early from the CD, you only get regular savings interest."

About thirty-five minutes into the consultation, Linda's phone started buzzing in her bag.

She glanced at the screen—it was Ryan calling—but she didn't pick up.

Daniel stopped his explanation, but Linda waved him on. "Just some telemarketer, no big deal."

"Mr. Hayes, if I want to open that three-year CD right now, can I get it done today?"

He checked his system. "Yes, but we'll need to do a video and audio confirmation to make sure you're buying it voluntarily. The whole thing takes around forty minutes."

Linda nodded and took out her passbook and ID from her bag.

At 4:20 PM, Linda walked out of the bank. In her hand was a confirmation for the three-year CD and a new savings card.

The 700,000 dollars had been moved from her old passbook to the new card, and at the same time, she'd put it into a three-year CD.

She'd just reached the bus stop when her phone rang again.

This time, she picked up. Ryan's voice was tight.

"Mom, Chole said she saw you coming out of the downtown bank. Weren't you supposed to be fixing the card issue?"

Linda looked at the bold clause on the confirmation form that read, "Early withdrawal will result in the loss of all fixed-term interest," and replied calmly, "I fixed it. I redeposited the money in a three-year term. It can't be taken out now."

On the other end of the line came a dull crashing sound, followed by Chole's voice rising sharply in a furious question. The call ended with a sharp click.

Linda slipped her phone away, glanced up at the gloomy sky, and crossed the street toward the produce market—she remembered the fresh carp was on special today.

The next morning at nine, Linda was on the balcony, pruning dead leaves off her potted plants, when she heard a key turning in the lock.

Ryan walked in with the spare key he'd held onto.

Ryan looked pale, with bloodshot eyes. He walked straight to the middle of the living room and stood there.

Linda set down her scissors and walked into the living room. Instead of asking if he'd had breakfast like she usually did, she went straight to the security door and slid the chain lock into place. The metallic click echoed sharply in the quiet room.

Ryan stared at her, his throat bobbing. "Mom, what's that about? Who are you locking the door against?"

Linda turned around, her voice steady. "Thieves. People should knock before entering someone else's home."

Ryan took a deep breath, gave up on arguing about the lock, and lowered his voice, though it remained urgent. "Chole cried all night. We already put down a 20,000 dollars deposit on the house. Now the money isn't coming through, and next week we'll have to pay a penalty for breaching the contract. The seller is even threatening to sue us. Mom, please break the term deposit. Just treat it as a loan to me. I'll write you an IOU, okay?"

He pulled a handwritten note from his briefcase and slid it across the coffee table.

Linda didn't even look at the IOU. She walked into the kitchen, filled up the kettle, and set it on the stove, turning on the burner.

The kettle began to hiss quietly.

Only then did she speak. "I told you on the phone yesterday—the money's locked in for three years. If I pull it out now, all the interest is gone, plus I have to pay a penalty. Who's supposed to eat that loss?"

Ryan blurted out, "I'll cover the loss!"

Linda turned off the stove, and the kettle's hissing stopped abruptly.

She fixed her eyes on him. "And just how are you going to do that? Your paycheck goes straight to Chole, and you only get 500 dollars a month as allowance."

Ryan's face turned red, his voice rising sharply. "Then what am I supposed to do? Are we still getting married or what?"

Linda walked over to the dresser, opened a drawer, and took out an old notebook held together with a rubber band.

She opened it to the middle. On the page were careful entries written in blue ballpoint pen. September 1998: Ryan's elementary school sponsorship fee, 1,000 dollars. August 2005: Ryan's high school placement fee, 6,000 dollars. 2010 to 2014: Ryan's college tuition and living expenses, 30,000 dollars... She gently placed the notebook beside the IOU.

"This is the big money I've spent on you since you started school—all tracked. I never kept this because I wanted repayment. I kept it to remind myself how much of my life went into raising you." she said.

She paused, tapping her finger on the most recent entry. "But the 700,000 dollars I deposited yesterday? That's the retirement money your dad and I saved our whole lives, plus eight more years I worked as a street cleaner after I retired. How it gets used is up to me."

Ryan stared at the yellowed notebook, his mouth opened, but he couldn't say a word.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, coming closer, then passing by and fading away.

Finally, he grabbed the IOU, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into his pocket. He turned to open the door, but the chain lock stretched taut, barring his way.

He paused for a moment, only then realizing the door was still locked. Linda walked over and calmly unhooked the chain.

Ryan didn't look back. He strode out the door, his footsteps heavy and quick as he headed downstairs.

Linda closed the door and locked it behind her, standing with her back pressed to the door for a moment. Then she walked back out to the balcony, picked up the scissors, and resumed pruning the jasmine. Her hand trembled, and she ended up snipping off a young shoot that still carried a flower bud.

Linda swept the trimmed jasmine branches into the dustpan, and just then, the doorbell rang.