Chapter 2

Jayda had married the richest man in town, Nathan Stewart.

After a two-hour bus ride, Zoey and I finally reached the main gates of their neighborhood, only to be stopped by the security guard.

I offered him a cigarette. "Young man, we're Jayda Dawson's parents."

After taking the cigarette, the guard quickly dialed Jayda's number.

Zoey and I picked up our bags, ready to walk in, when the guard's expression suddenly soured. "Hold it right there! Get the hell back to whatever hillbilly town you came from! Ms. Dawson said she doesn't even know you!"

I could barely believe my ears. I watched in disbelief as the guard threw the cigarette I had just given him onto the ground and crushed it under his boot.

Flushed with embarrassment, I called Jayda myself. I tried several times, but it went straight to voicemail.

Passersby began to point and stare.

Drenched in sweat from the sheer humiliation, Zoey pulled at my arm to leave.

But as we turned around, we ran right into Nathan.

I instinctively lowered my head, but Nathan looked genuinely shocked and jogged over to us.

"Mom, Dad! What are you doing here? Come on inside! Jayda was just saying the other day how much she wanted to visit you back home!"

Nathan's warmth caught both Zoey and me off guard.

Could Mom's insistence on leaving the money to Jayda have something to do with Nathan?

Before I could wrap my head around it, we arrived at the front of the villa.

Jayda opened the door, smiling, but the moment she saw Zoey and me, her expression completely hardened. "Dad, aren't you terminally ill? Why are you at my house instead of waiting to die in a hospital?"

Zoey shook with rage, but Nathan beat her to the punch, snapping sharply, "Jayda! They're your parents! How can you talk to them like that?"

Reluctantly, Jayda tossed out two battered plastic stools. "Dad, you're dying soon. You're bringing nothing but death and dark omens with you. I'm not letting you inside. Whatever you have to say, say it out here!"

Nathan's face fell. Ignoring her, he ushered us into the house and hurried off to make tea.

Jayda sat across from us, visibly annoyed. "I already gave you guys money. Why did you still come here?"

I looked up at her. "Can't we just miss you and come see how you're doing?"

Jayda rolled her eyes.

A dull ache bloomed in my chest.

Growing up, Jayda had been such a sweet, sensible girl. She knew how hard Zoey and I worked for our money, so she wouldn't even spend a dime on snacks for herself.

But ever since she married Nathan, she seemed obsessed with money.

She used to at least keep up the act, but the moment she learned I was terminally ill, she dropped the pretense altogether.

Nathan returned with the tea and handed me a bank card. "Dad, if Jayda hadn't let it slip today, I wouldn't even have known that you were sick. There's a million dollars in here. Take it for your medical bills."

Before I could lift my hand, Jayda snatched the card away. "Dad! Terminal illness is just a money pit! You're going to die sooner or later anyway! Don't waste the money! This million dollars would be much better spent on my spa treatments!"

Furious and exasperated, Nathan started arguing with Jayda.

Zoey was trembling with anger too, but I just stared intently at Jayda's wrist.

I think I finally understood why Mom insisted I give all the money to this ungrateful daughter.

The chaotic scene was cut short by a phone call for Nathan.

While he was distracted by the call, I discreetly slid my screen in front of Jayda.

It only had one sentence typed out. "Jayda, are you being threatened?"

Jayda's eyes widened slightly when she read the screen.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

When Jayda had reached out to snatch the bank card earlier, her sleeve had slipped, exposing a deep purple bruise on her wrist. It looked like a rope burn from being tied up.

I was certain that this spot was a blind zone for the house's security cameras.

If she really were in danger, all she had to do was give me a sign.

Instead, Jayda burst into loud laughter and carelessly yanked her sleeve all the way up. "Dad, are you referring to this? What goes on in the bedroom between my husband and me is none of your business. Aren't you a little old to be so nosey?"

The implication hit me instantly, and my face burned with intense embarrassment.

"Alright, you guys should leave. Unless it's about the inheritance, don't bother me again!"

With a loud slam, the heavy front door was shut right in our faces.

Sitting on the bus back to the village, Zoey asked in a trembling voice, "Henry, are you absolutely sure your mom told you to give everything to Jayda? Is it possible you remembered it wrong?"

I rubbed my face hard, racking my brain to remember every detail of the dream.

Suddenly, I slapped my forehead. "The first two times, I saw Mom's face as clear as day. But this time, I only heard her voice! What if Mom never actually appeared in my dream? What if it was just a regular dream?"

The realization hit us both like a splash of cold water.

"Then there's no need to hesitate anymore. Let's give the money to Caleb right away!"

Zoey immediately pulled out her phone to call him.

I finally let out a sigh of relief.

But just as I leaned back against the seat to rest, something hard pressed against my hip from inside my pocket.

I reached in and pulled it out. My face instantly fell. "Zoey, maybe Jayda really does have her reasons.”