Mom, Where Did My $800,000 Go?

I ran an e-commerce business in Harbor City and earned $300,000 a year.

But the ready cash I could access never exceeded $20,000.

Three years ago, just as my business began to find its footing, my mother, Sophie Watson, offered to manage my earnings for me.

“You’re a man. You’re too careless to know how to save money. Besides, your wife sells products through TikTok. She buys a handbag today and luxury cosmetics tomorrow.

“If you leave the money with her, she’ll blow through it all within two years.”

My mother sat in my office, wiping the dust off my desk as she slipped the bank card linked to my business account into her pocket.

“I will save it for you. When you need it, I’ll return every cent.”

I was only twenty-six then, and everything she said sounded reasonable.

After all, she was my mother and lived her entire life frugally.

She would even haggle with grocery vendors to save five cents.

There was no way she would waste my money.

Later, Mandy and I held our wedding.

She privately mentioned that she wanted us to take back the card and manage the money ourselves.

Before I could say anything, my mother called me.

“Larry, does Mandy want to manage your business account? Tell her I’m saving the money for you. I’m more reliable than she is.

“She’s just a young girl. What does she know about handling money? If you let her manage it, you won’t have enough to expand the warehouse or stock up on inventory later.”

I stared at my mother’s name on my phone screen and felt a headache coming on.

Mandy was understanding. She simply smiled and never mentioned it again.

From then on, every dollar I earned went straight to my mother.

At $300,000 a year, I had accumulated at least $800,000 over three years.

Eight hundred thousand dollars.

In Harbor City, that kind of money could cover a down payment, even in the heart of the city.

Whenever I thought about that money sitting safely with my mother, I felt completely at ease.

My mother knew how to manage a household. She spent her entire life farming in the countryside, stretching every dollar as far as it could go.

How could there be any problem with someone like that managing my money?

That was what I believed until a week ago.

That day, I was in Westhaven sourcing products.

At two in the morning, the warehouse manager called me.

He said a short circuit started a fire in the warehouse.

My mind went blank.

I booked the earliest flight home.

By the time I reached Harbor City, the warehouse had already been sealed off by the fire department.

The fire was out, but most of my inventory had been reduced to ashes.

The shipment also included a batch of custom-made goods worth $60,000.

The customer came straight to me that very day and said that if I did not pay within three days, they would report me and have me sent to prison. They would also have all my e-commerce businesses shut down.

I sat outside the sealed warehouse, my fingers trembling.

I went over the money I had on hand.

I already used most of my working capital to purchase new inventory.

I had only $16,000 left in total.

My credit cards could cover another $24,000 at most.

I was still short by exactly $20,000.

I took a deep breath.

It was fine. My mother had $800,000.

I took out my phone and called her.

It was one in the morning, so she should have been asleep.

The phone rang three times before she answered.

“Hello?”

My mother sounded groggy, with the nasal tone of someone who just woke up.

“Mom.”

My voice trembled as soon as I spoke.

“Mom, there was a fire at my warehouse. My customer’s goods were destroyed. I have to pay $60,000. They said they’ll send me to prison if I don’t pay within three days. Please transfer $60,000 to me first. I need it urgently.”

There was no response on the other end.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

After three seconds of silence, my mother finally spoke.