Chapter 3

I liquidated my investment fund and lost money to fees, leaving me with only $4,000.

Along with the $16,000 I had on hand, I scraped together roughly $20,000.

I was still short by $40,000.

Dawn was breaking. The smell of fresh coffee from a nearby diner drifted through the air. I was starving, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat.

As I crouched on the steps and searched through my contacts, I tapped Tom’s number.

He had been one of my suppliers for two years. The last time a sudden surge in orders left me short of money to pay for inventory, he arranged an overnight shipment for me without asking for anything in return.

I called him with the last of my hope. He answered after two rings, and the roar of factory machinery came through the phone.

“Larry? Why are you calling this early? I thought you went to Westhaven to source products.”

“Tom, I just got back to Harbor City. There was a fire at my warehouse, and I have to pay a customer $60,000. I’m still short by $40,000. Could you…”

Before I could finish, he cut me off.

“Send me your account details.”

I froze for a moment, convinced I had misheard him.

“What?”

“Why are you still asking questions? Send me your account details. I’ll transfer the money right now.”

“I happen to have $60,000 in spare cash. I’ll send it all to you first.”

“Keep the extra $20,000 to restock your inventory and pay your employees. If you need more, just tell me.”

My hands trembled as I copied and sent him my bank details.

The transfer notification arrived on my phone less than five minutes later.

It was $60,000, every cent accounted for. He even sent an extra $400, with the note: “For cigarettes.”

My eyes instantly reddened as I stared at the notification.

Tom was not related to me in any way.

Yet, despite knowing me for only two years through business, he transferred $60,000 without hesitation and never once asked for an IOU.

My own mother, meanwhile, was holding on to my $800,000 and claiming she had no money.

That same day, I took my bank card to the customer’s company and transferred the full $60,000.

When I left the customer’s office, I felt colder and colder.

Soon, my entire body was trembling.

My phone screen lit up.

A notification popped up confirming the train ticket home I booked the day before was issued. The train was scheduled to leave at nine the morning after next.

Once I had everything settled, I would return home immediately and ask my mother face-to-face where the $800,000 had gone.

…

For the next three days, I barely had time to breathe.

I worked with the staff to clear out the warehouse, which was blackened by the fire.

Last year, I even called my mother and showed her a screenshot of the profits from that shipment, telling her I could save another $100,000.

She laughed and said she would save it for me so I could build a secure future for myself.

I contacted new factories and bought $60,000 worth of replacement inventory. I also apologized to my regular customers one by one and discussed their future orders.

A foreign client I had worked with for three years even waived a $400 cancellation fee, saying he understood how difficult things must be for me.

I stared at my phone for a long time. Even an outsider was willing to lend me a hand, yet my own mother had switched off her phone when I needed her most.

I worked until two or three in the morning every day, then leaned against the office sofa and slept for a while.

At one point, I checked my call history and saw seven missed calls, all from my mother.

They all came between one and three in the morning.

At those hours, I was either clearing out the warehouse with my workers or discussing replacement shipments with the freight forwarder.

My phone had been on silent, so I never heard it ring.

My finger hovered over the call-back button for a long time, but I eventually slipped my phone back into my pocket.

I still could not get past what had happened.

If I called her now, I was afraid I would lose my temper and start arguing with her.

Three days later, most of the problems had been settled.

The temporary warehouse I rented was already operating, and the customers’ orders were gradually being sent to overseas fulfillment centers.

All eight employees had returned to their assigned duties, and the company had finally resumed normal operations.

Before I left, I made one last trip around the warehouse.

Before entering the station, I sent Mandy a message: “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. I won’t argue with Mom.”

I dragged my suitcase into the train and took a window seat.

When the train pulled away, I watched Harbor City’s skyscrapers rush backward outside the window.

I clutched the printed transaction records from the past three years. I had marked every deposit.

Only one thought filled my mind: I had to find out where the $800,000 went.