Chapter 4Wiring Her Money Was His Habit

Then came a relentless, rain-soaked night in November.

I was buried in spreadsheets, trying to salvage an account Harper had neglected, when my cell phone vibrated. It was the hospital.

"Ms. Frost, your mother has taken a sudden turn. You need to get here immediately."

I abandoned everything, sprinting to my car. The rain lashed against the windshield, blurring the city lights into a smear of neon, mirroring the panic rising in my throat.

When I reached her room, my mother looked translucent, swallowed by the hospital bed and a maze of IV tubes.

The oncologist pulled me into the hallway, his expression grim. "The cancer has metastasized to her liver. She is in rapid decline."

The sterile hallway spun. I braced my hand against the wall. "What can we do? There has to be something."

He hesitated. "There is an experimental immunotherapy compound. It's not FDA-approved yet, so insurance won't touch it, but it has shown miraculous results in European trials. We have to administer it tonight, or... or she has a month, at best."

"How much?" I asked, my voice cracking. "I don't care what it is."

"A hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

A hundred and fifty thousand. The exact price of a diamond necklace.

My fingers shook as I dialed Carter’s number.

"Yeah?" he answered. There was thumping bass in the background. A club. And the unmistakable sound of a woman's breathless laugh.

"Carter, it's my mom. She's crashing. The doctors need $150,000 for an experimental treatment right now, can you please wire..."

"Wait, what? A hundred and fifty grand?" The irritation in his voice was instant. The background noise muffled slightly as he walked away from the music. "Are you serious?"

"Please, Carter. It's life or death. She's out of time!" I was sobbing right there in the open corridor.

"Okay, okay, calm down," he sighed, the patronizing tone slipping back in. "I'll handle it. I'll initiate the wire. Just wait for the confirmation."

"Thank you. God, thank you so much, Carter."

"Yeah, whatever. I gotta go, I'm in the middle of something." Click.

I sat in the plastic chair outside the ICU. An hour crawled by. Then two. Then three. Every notification bell made my heart leap, only to crash when it was just an email.

At 3:00 AM, my screen lit up with a banking alert from our joint corporate account.

I opened it, ready to sprint to the billing department. Instead, the words on the screen made my blood run cold.

Transfer Complete: $150,000.00 wired to Harper Montgomery. Remaining Balance: $24,500.00.

Wired to Harper.

I blinked hard, thinking the sleep deprivation was making me hallucinate. But the numbers didn't change. The money—my mother’s literal lifeline—had gone to Harper.

I hit Carter’s contact. It rang endlessly. Finally, a groggy voice answered.

"What?"

"Carter! You wired the money to Harper!" I screamed, not caring who heard me. "My mother's treatment money!"

"Huh?" There was a rustle of sheets. He was in bed. "Oh. Shit. Look, I've been wiring her funds for the new escrow account all week. I must have just hit her contact on autopilot. Muscle memory. I'll just redo it."

Muscle memory.

"My mother is dying right now! The pharmacy needs the funds to release the drug!"

"Maddie, stop being so dramatic," he groaned, clearly exasperated. "The wire cutoff has passed. It won't clear until banking hours open at 8 AM anyway. It’s a few hours. Just wait."

I looked through the glass window at my mother, her chest barely rising.

"Carter... do you remember what you promised her?" I whispered, my voice breaking. "You sat by her bed and told her you would look after me. That you'd treat her like your own mother."

"I know, I know. And I am," he deflected smoothly. "I said I'd send the money, didn't I? She's a tough lady, she'll make it to morning. Just relax. I have a massive pitch tomorrow and I need sleep. We'll handle it in the morning."

The line went dead. I slid down the wall, hitting the cold floor, completely and utterly shattered.