Chapter 1
It was two in the morning when Julia Stone was struck by a sudden illness.
I sped through red lights, rushing her to the ER.
I pulled out the joint savings card we'd been building for five years. The balance read: [1,090.52 dollars.]
We once had 600 thousand dollars, and now all that was left was pocket change.
I checked the transaction history and every single payment had gone to the same guy: her first love from college, Michael Harris.
When my mother-in-law Linda Grant showed up, the first thing she said wasn't about Julia.
She jabbed a finger at me and snapped, "You useless bastard. You can't even spare the money to save your own wife."
I stared at the ER doors, shoving the bank card back into my pocket.
Then I turned to the doctor and said, "I can't afford it. Stop the treatment."
*****
It was 1:47 AM.
I woke up to Julia's painful groans.
She was curled up in bed, her face ghostly pale, sweat covering her forehead, both hands gripping her stomach tightly.
"David, it hurts my stomach hurts so much." she cried.
I snapped awake.
I pulled back the covers and saw blood on the sheets.
Without thinking, I scooped her up and ran downstairs. Didn't even have time to put on matching shoes. One slipper, one dress shoe and nearly lost my mind looking for the car keys.
She was shaking from the pain, her face completely drained of color, her lips turning blue.
I blew through three red lights.
By the time we got to the downtown hospital's ER, she was barely conscious.
A nurse wheeled over a stretcher, and I ran after her.
"Please stop here. You need to pay first," the nurse said.
I stopped in my tracks.
I patted my pocket. My wallet held a credit card and our bank card.
The bank card was our joint savings card.
I take home 4,000 dollars every month. For five years of marriage, I'd been depositing 2,700 dollars into that account every month, like clockwork.
She made a little over 2000 dollars a month and claimed she put in 1,700 dollars.
With bonuses and project payouts, I figured we should have over 600,000 dollars in there.
In five years, I never spent more than 50 dollars on a single piece of clothing.
When she wanted a new car, I told her, "Let's save a bit more first."
When she brought up going to the Malora Isles, I said, "Let's wait till we've saved up 670 thousand dollars, then we'll go together."
I really thought we were building a future together.
There was no one waiting at the payment window.
I handed over the card. "I need to pay a 17,000 dollar deposit."
The cashier swiped the card, glanced at the screen, and looked up at me.
"Sir, there's not enough money on this card," the cashier said.
I was stunned for a moment. "That can't be right. Run it again."
She swiped the card again and handed me the receipt.
Ir read: [Balance: 1090.52 dollars.]
I stared at the balance. My mind went blank.
One thousand one hundred. That's all.
Out of 600,000 dollars, all that's left is 1,100 dollars.
"Sir? Sir? Are you still paying?" the cashier asked.
Without any word, I pulled out my phone, opened the banking app, entered my password, and tapped on transaction details.
I kept scrolling, line after line.
Every single payment went to the same person. He was Michael Harris.
March 15th, 1,700 dollars sent.
April 2nd, another 2,700 dollars gone.
April 28th, 4,000 dollars transferred.
May 15th, 670 dollars, just like that.
*****
The screen was packed with transfers.
The earliest one dated back two years.
The latest was three days ago: 50,000 dollars gone.
The note read: [Relax, this is the last payment. Take care of yourself.]
I scrolled back up.