Chapter 3

At 2:00 am, I opened the encrypted file.

Every month on the 15th, a payment of 50,000 dollars came in like clockwork from Dad's company account. And every month on the 16th, a payment of 49,800 dollars went right back out, just as reliably, to a single account.

The name on it was Keith Sutherland, the uncle Mom had always described as frail and bedridden, too sick to work.

My monthly allowance of 200 dollars was nothing more than the loose change Mom and her brother could barely be bothered to peel off before pocketing the rest.

It explained why my cousin, Brandon Sutherland, was already driving a sports car and dressed head to toe in designer brands despite being younger than me. It explained why every time I went back to visit my grandparents, they looked at me with something between pity and contempt.

They must have thought I was worthless, some kid who only deserved 200 dollars a month.

And my mother, Diane Sutherland, was their hero—the brave soldier who endured a supposedly terrible husband so she could funnel the Reeves fortune straight into the Sutherland family's pockets.

I stared at the bank records until my heart felt like it had been locked inside a freezer. Then I dragged the file to the trash and deleted it permanently.

The next day happened to be the 16th. Mom's call came right on schedule.

"Sawyer, you got the money, right? Be careful with it. Don't waste it on anything you don't need."

"Got it, Mom." I kept my voice tight and full of gratitude. "I'm sorry you had to go beg him again because of me. I really am."

I could practically sense her satisfaction through the phone. "As long as you're doing okay, all the grief I have to endure is worth it."

I hung up, my face blank, and opened Brandon's Instagram. His latest post was a photo of him grinning behind the wheel of a brand-new Porsche.

The caption read, "Shoutout to my aunt for landing another big payday! Legend!"

Beneath it was a parade of likes and gushing comments from Sutherland relatives.

One relative commented, "Diane is the backbone of this family! So proud of her!"

An uncle wrote, "We'd be nowhere without Diane. Everything she puts up with, she does it for all of us!"

The rage I'd been holding down erupted like a volcano. I called Mom back.

"Mom, there's a study abroad exchange program at the university. It's an incredible opportunity, but it needs a 75,000-dollar deposit."

I made sure my voice trembled just right. "Mom, this could be our only real chance to finally hold our heads up. I don't want to miss it."

I sniffled for good measure, pushing the desperate, helpless tone as far as it would go.

She exploded immediately. "75,000 dollars? Sawyer Reeves, have you lost your mind?

"Where am I supposed to get 75,000 dollars? Your father would kill me! He won't give us a single cent!"

I dug my nails into my palm and kept my voice steady. "But... I've heard from other students that when it's for their kids' future, most dads are happy to help."

I paused deliberately before adding, "Oh, and Mom, last time when Dad came to campus, he gave me his personal number. He said I could call him directly if anything urgent came up.

"So maybe... I should just try asking him myself. He might say yes if he's in a good mood."

The other end of the line fell silent for so long that even the sound of her breathing disappeared.

Then her voice came back, pitched high with panic. "Don't! Sawyer, don't you dare!

"Don't go humiliating yourself like that! You don't know what your father's like! He'll tear you apart!

"I'll figure out the money! I'll sell everything I have if I have to! I'll get on my knees and beg him!

"Just wait for me to handle it! Whatever you do, don't contact him yourself!"

I listened in silence as she spiraled, her words tripping over each other, until she finally hung up.

Half an hour later, my phone buzzed with a text from her.

"Sawyer, I'll figure out the money. Whatever you do, do not contact your father. If you do, it's over for the both of us."

I looked at those words, "over for the both of us," and smiled.

No. It was over for her.