Chapter 1

An hour before the district enrollment portal closed, my daughter's application was rejected.

Her residential address had been modified, and the three hundred thousand dollars I spent five grueling years building into her education trust had completely vanished.

That money was her golden ticket into the city's top private academy. For five years, I survived on four hours of sleep a night, juggling three freelance gigs just to pour every spare cent into our joint account.

With trembling fingers, I logged into my banking app. The entire balance had been drained earlier this week in several large wires.

When I confronted my husband, he mumbled something about bailing out his cousin's business.

I traced the wire transfers anyway. The beneficiary wasn't any business—it was the VIP maternity ward of Sacred Heart Women’s Hospital.

I looked up the hospital’s direct line, took a slow breath, and called, pretending to be an anxious family member checking on discharge papers.

The nurse’s voice was sickeningly sweet: "Oh, Mr. Miller’s baby boy was discharged just this morning!"

It looked like I needed to pay my husband a visit with my attorney—to meet him, and the newborn bastard he thought he could hide from me.

With only one hour left before the enrollment system closed, I discovered the education fund I spent five years slaving over was gone.

To secure a spot for my daughter in that elite school, I had lived on five hours of sleep a night for half a decade.

Every penny I made from working three jobs went straight into our joint account.

Just minutes ago, I was at the admissions office submitting our paperwork when the registrar gave me a sympathetic, awkward look.

"Mrs. Miller, I'm sorry. Your daughter’s primary residential address was transferred out of our school district last week."

My ears started ringing.

I held all our legal documents. How could her registration be moved without my consent?

My hands shook as I unlocked my phone and opened the banking app. My chest tightened as if squeezed by an iron fist.

The joint trust account ending in 0520, the one I created for Maya, showed a balance of exactly zero.

Three hundred thousand dollars, wired out in installments over the past three days.

I rushed back home. My husband, Liam, was lounging on the sofa, scrolling leisurely through financial news on his tablet.

Seeing my bloodshot eyes, he blinked. "What's wrong with you? Did Maya’s registration go okay?"

I slammed my phone onto the glass coffee table right in front of him. The screen glared with the transfer records.

"Where is the money? Where is Maya’s tuition?"

His relaxed expression instantly collapsed, his gaze darting away.

"Oh... that. My cousin ran into some cash flow trouble with his business. I just lent it to him for an emergency."

His cousin?

Which cousin needed three hundred thousand dollars for an "emergency"?

I glared into his eyes, looking for a shred of sincerity, but all I found was panic.

"Which cousin? Why don't I know about this? Why the hell didn't you discuss this with me before touching her college fund?"

"Come on, it’s family! Why do we need a formal board meeting over family?"

He reached out to touch my arm, but I violently smacked his hand away.

"Give me his name and his number. I’ll call him myself and ask when he’s paying it back. Maya’s enrollment fees are due next week!"

Liam’s face drained of color. He sputtered and stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

The more evasive he acted, the clearer my worst fears became.

The front door swung open, and my mother-in-law, Brenda, walked in carrying grocery bags. Seeing the standoff, she dropped the bags heavily onto the entryway floor.

"What is all this screaming about? Evelyn, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now? Liam’s been working hard all day. Can’t you let the man have some peace and quiet?"

I let out a bitter laugh, pointing at the phone screen.

"Brenda, why don't you ask your wonderful son who he gave Maya’s three hundred thousand dollars to?"

Brenda glanced down. Her expression didn't even flicker. Instead, she crossed her arms and glared at me self-righteously.

"He lent it to family! It’ll be paid back sooner or later, won't it?"

"Why are you so hysterical? Is money more important than blood relatives?"

Family.

Always "family."

Looking at the two of them standing united against me, a wave of pure ice rushed up from my feet to my chest.

Five years ago, when I decided to fight for Maya’s future, they had reacted the exact same way.

Liam had told me, If you want to aim that high, do it yourself. I'm not wasting my money on private school.

Brenda had scoffed, What's the point of spending so much on a girl's education? She’s just going to get married and belong to someone else anyway.

For five years, I tutored, took freelance translation projects until 3 a.m., and baked custom cakes on weekends.

When Liam came home from work, dinner was always hot on the table.

For Brenda’s birthdays, I bought her fine designer jewelry.

Every single cent in Maya’s education fund was scraped together from my own sweat and sleepless nights.

And these two? One felt entitled to reap all the benefits, while the other squandered it without a second thought.

I took a deep breath, choking down the burning lump in my throat.

"Liam. I am asking you one last time. Where did that money go?"

Cornered and frustrated, he snapped, "I told you, I lent it to my cousin! Why do you have to be so damn unreasonable?"

"Fine."

I nodded slowly, picking up my car keys from the counter.

"I’m driving out to your hometown right now. I’ll knock on every single relative's door until I find out which cousin stole my daughter's future."

Liam’s face turned paper-white.

Brenda lunged forward, snatching the keys right out of my hand.

"Are you insane?! You want to air our private business to everyone? How will our family ever show our faces again?!"

Watching her shield her son like a rabid dog, the truth hit me with brutal clarity.

They were in this together.

From beginning to end, I had always been the outsider.

In that fraction of a second, my rage evaporated, replaced by a cold, calculating detachment.

I remembered Maya’s pending deadline.

Screaming and breaking things wouldn't fix this. They weren't afraid of a screaming wife; they were only afraid of real consequences.

I relaxed my clenched fists and said nothing more.