Chapter 2

That summer, I helped her complete her college enrollment. I bought her a new phone, a laptop, and a backpack filled with new school supplies.

Her mother held my hands and thanked me over and over.

“You’re our benefactor. We’ll never forget what you’ve done for our family.”

“Please don’t say that. Sophie worked hard to earn this opportunity. Helping her was the least I could do.”

On the first day of school, I took her to campus and helped carry her luggage into the dorm.

She stood outside the six-person dorm room, then suddenly turned to me.

“Eliana, I’ll work hard. I promise.”

Years later, when she was in her fifth year of medical school, she told me she wanted to pursue a master’s degree.

“Then go for it. If you get in, I’ll keep supporting you.”

She was accepted into the master’s program at her university.

After that, she told me she wanted to pursue a PhD.

Her advisor said her research field had tremendous potential and that it would be a waste for her not to pursue a doctorate.

“Then get your PhD. I’ll support you through that too.”

She got in.

I was so happy for her that I took her and her mother out for a proper celebration dinner.

Once she began her doctoral studies, I contacted the director of Bellmont General Hospital.

I told him about the student I’d been supporting—a doctoral student in clinical medicine who wanted to return to Bellmont and serve at the hospital for three years.

“Could you put her in one of the best departments? And if possible, arrange for one of the state’s leading medical specialists to mentor her.”

Dr. James Carter agreed without hesitation. He even said that having someone with her academic credentials willing to return to Bellmont would be a blessing to the local community.

I thought I’d paved the entire road ahead of her.

Once her three-year service commitment was over, she’d have a PhD and three years of clinical experience under the guidance of a renowned specialist. She’d have no trouble getting into a top-tier hospital anywhere she wanted.

I’d even considered helping her find a position elsewhere in the state if she decided she didn’t want to stay in Bellmont after those three years.

I never told her any of this.

I wanted to wait until everything was finalized and surprise her.

Unfortunately, the surprise never happened.

Instead, I was the one who got blindsided.

The deadline to pay her tuition and fees for the upcoming semester was three days away.

The clinical residency training fee alone was $100,000.

I had no idea where she planned to get the money.

But I wasn’t going to ask anymore.

A noise came from outside.

I walked to the door and glanced through the peephole.

Two people were standing in the hallway.

Sophie and her mother.

Rebecca was carrying two bags of groceries, apparently having just returned from the supermarket.

Sophie stood outside the apartment across from mine, rummaging through her bag for her keys.

To make things easier for Sophie while she studied, I’d let them live in an apartment I owned.

It was directly across from mine—a two-bedroom, one-bathroom unit that was fully furnished and equipped with everything they needed.

I also paid the utilities.

Over the years, I had never charged them a single cent in rent.

An apartment in that neighborhood would have rented for at least $40,000 a year.

Over ten years, that came to $400,000.

I had never counted any of that as part of my financial support.

Her education mattered more. If I could save them some money, I was happy to do it.

I hesitated for a moment before opening the door.

I was only going downstairs to pick up a package.

The sound of the door opening echoed through the hallway. Sophie and Rebecca both looked up at the same time.

The moment Rebecca’s eyes met mine, she immediately lowered her head.

Her grip tightened around the grocery bags, the plastic crinkling softly as she instinctively shifted half a step behind Sophie.

Sophie, however, looked completely at ease.

Or rather, she had the kind of confidence that bordered on defiance.

She lifted her chin slightly, a faint, mocking smile tugging at the corners of her lips as her eyes swept over me from head to toe.

I’d seen that look before.

Back in middle school, it was the same look the class troublemaker used whenever he stared down the class president.

“Mom, why are you scared?

“She should be the one who’s scared.”

Rebecca said nothing. Her head dipped even lower.

Sophie turned toward me, and the smile on her lips widened.

“Eliana—no, wait. I suppose I should call you Ms. Caldwell now.

“You’ve only spent a few hundred dollars on me, and you expect me to work myself to the bone for you in Bellmont for three years?

“Do you even know what my qualifications are? I’m a PhD.

“Do you know how much a clinical medicine PhD can make after graduation?

“Even a resident at a top teaching hospital can make over $200,000 a year. That’s more than $600,000 over three years.

“You expect me to give up that kind of money and go work at some run-down county hospital in Bellmont for barely a fraction of that?

“Who’s going to make up the difference?”