Chapter 1

I froze, struck dumb, like I'd been hit by lightning.

Just then, the bank manager's voice came through, shaky with fear, "Ms. Cooney, Steve Deaton tried to withdraw thirty thousand dollars from the fund a little while ago. I managed to stop him just in time. It was close."

"Good."

Donna Cooney's cigarette glowed and dimmed in her hand, a shadow of worry crossing her eyes.

"Andrew's been spoiled his whole life. I don't want people mocking him for being useless when he gets married. Every dollar in that fund came from Steve's hard work. Having it behind Andrew will make his future in-laws think more of him."

The manager gave an awkward chuckle, then asked hesitantly, "But Mr. Deaton's hundred-thousand-dollar share hasn't come together in a while now. That doesn't seem like him..."

Donna stubbed out her cigarette, unhurried, "That's all my doing. Andrew isn't ready to bid his singlehood goodbye yet. I have to wait until he's married before I marry. There's no rush."

The moment she finished speaking, I felt like I'd been dropped into an ice cellar.

So the sweat and blood I'd bled into that fund, the health I'd traded for it, existed only to make Andrew look good on his wedding day?

A dull ache spread through my chest.

Before I could even demand an explanation, the hospital's messages started coming in, each more urgent than the last.

[Mr. Deaton, if you don't pay the medical bill soon, there's nothing more we can do.]

I broke into a sweat, panicking, and lost a shoe running to catch up with Donna.

Outside her office door, I nearly abandoned what little pride I had left. "I need thirty thousand dollars right now. Consider it a loan..."

She blinked, startled, then her face hardened into cold impartiality.

"My parents set that savings requirement to test you, not to give you an excuse to cut corners. Instead of wasting time asking for loans, you'd be better off developing new projects.

"Your numbers this quarter are practically at the bottom of the board. And now you're asking me for thirty thousand dollars? Do you think my money just falls out of the sky?"

Her words left me speechless.

When I tried to take another step after her, her assistant blocked my way. "Please stay back."

Just then, Andrew barged past me, dressed in an outfit that probably cost more than my rent, and breezed into her office.

He spun in a little circle, showing off his shopping spoils.

I stood frozen, unable to speak.

Any one of his watches, picked at random, would have covered my mother's medical bills.

And every cent of that fund, I'd earned the hard way. So what were my five years of hard work, careful and diligent, actually worth to Donna?

Just as I turned to leave, the hospital called with the news that my mother had died.

Through the blinds, I watched Donna and Andrew laughing together, and then I called a woman I hadn't spoken to in five years.

"You once told me you'd always reserve a place for me. Does that still hold?"