At 11:00 AM the next day, Cora sat in the corner booth of a small, grimy diner in Manhattan.
A cup of black coffee sat untouched in front of her, completely cold. She wore a black baseball cap pulled low over her eyes. Her thumb constantly swiped down on her phone screen, refreshing the banking app.
At 11:45 AM, the phone vibrated violently in her hand.
A push notification popped up: Incoming Wire Transfer.
She opened the app. The balance had jumped from $3,050.00 to $1,003,050.00.
Cora let out a long, shaky breath. The tension that had been knotting her shoulders for the last twenty-four hours finally released.
She threw a five-dollar bill on the table and walked out.
She hailed a cab and gave the driver an address in Queens. Twenty minutes later, she walked through the glass doors of an Enterprise truck rental center.
She ignored the rows of sedans and compact SUVs. She walked straight up to the counter.
"I need a Ford F-150 Raptor. The one with the enclosed bed cap," Cora told the salesman.
The guy looked at her skinny frame and the oversized hoodie. He smirked. "Are you sure, sweetheart? That's a lot of truck. We have a nice RAV4 right over here."
Cora didn't blink. She pulled out her credit card and slapped it on the counter.
"I want it for a month. Full insurance coverage. Run the card."
The salesman's smirk vanished when he saw the name on the card and the lack of hesitation. Ten minutes later, he handed her the keys.
Cora walked out to the lot. The black F-150 looked like a massive, armored beast.
She opened the heavy door, climbed into the driver's seat, and gripped the leather steering wheel. The physical weight of the machine gave her a massive surge of security. She started the engine. The V6 twin-turbo roared to life, vibrating through her boots.
She pulled out of the lot and merged onto the highway, heading toward a massive Costco on the edge of Brooklyn.
While sitting at a red light, she connected her phone to the truck's Bluetooth. She dialed a ghost-address leasing company.
Using a fake name, she rented five large P.O. Boxes and two abandoned self-storage units spread across New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and upstate New York. She needed the deliveries scattered so the algorithms wouldn't flag a massive hoarding event.
The light turned green. She slammed the gas pedal, leaving the sedans behind her in the dust.
She parked in the massive Costco lot. Before she got out, she opened her iPad. She logged into her Amazon Prime account and started reviewing the hundreds of items sitting in her cart.
Suddenly, the truck's infotainment screen lit up.
Incoming Call: Declan.
Cora stared at the name. Her eyes turned to ice. She hit the accept button and simultaneously tapped the record button on her phone.
"Hey, baby," Declan's voice filled the cabin, thick with fake affection. "Where are you? I stopped by the dorm with those lilies you like, but you weren't there."
Cora forced a heavy sigh. "I'm at my family lawyer's office in the city. It's a nightmare. I won't be back until late."
"Don't push yourself too hard," Declan said smoothly. Then, he paused. It was a calculated pause. "Did you get things sorted out with your uncle? About the trust?"
There it is.
Cora bit the inside of her cheek to stop from laughing. "No. He locked me out completely. I didn't get a single cent. I'm broke, Declan."
The silence on the other end of the line was deafening.
When Declan finally spoke, his voice was completely flat. The warmth was gone. "Oh. Well. That sucks. Look, I gotta go to practice. Talk later."
He hung up.
Cora listened to the dead dial tone. She tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.
She opened the truck door, pulled a black surgical mask over her face, and grabbed two oversized shopping carts.
It was time to spend some money.
