I slipped back to the old family house and found the gold jewelry my mother had left me before she passed.
In my previous life, Elijah had stolen these pieces without my knowledge, melted them down, and gifted them to Anita for her birthday.
This time, I would move them first.
I opened the iron box hidden in the false panel of my wardrobe. Inside lay a gold necklace, a pair of gold bangles, and two gold rings. The designs were dated, but the weight was substantial.
I took them to the largest gold shop in the city and walked out with four hundred thousand dollars in cash.
Then I headed straight for the Children's Hospital to find my daughter's attending physician.
"Director Dickerson, this four hundred thousand is the surgical deposit. I'll have the balance as soon as possible." I placed the cash on his desk. "Please—hold my daughter's surgical slot."
Director Dickerson's eyebrows rose at the sight of so much cash, but he nodded, issued the payment receipt, and promised to schedule the surgery promptly.
Receipt in hand, I finally exhaled.
This time, Nora's place in the surgical queue was secure.
I walked out of the hospital and checked the time. Three in the afternoon.
In my previous life, backed into a corner with nowhere left to turn, I had bought a scratch-off ticket at exactly this hour. I won nothing.
But the young man in line behind me? He won fifty million dollars.
This time, I found that same lottery shop and spent every last dollar I had on a stack of scratch-offs.
I couldn't remember which ticket he'd chosen, but I was almost certain it had come from this batch.
My pulse quickened. I was about to start scratching when my phone rang.
Elijah. His voice crackled with fury and impatience.
"Cassandra! Where the hell did you go? I've called you a dozen times!"
"What's your plan for the money? The master is leaving today—this is your last chance!"
He paused, and his tone softened, turned coaxing.
"I'm doing this for Nora too, you know. Don't be angry. I had someone calculate it—you'll live past ninety. Trading ten years for three hundred thousand? That's a bargain."
I laughed silently. So desperate, Elijah? Anita's son must be running out of time.
"Let the master leave. I'm not doing the trade."
"Not doing it?" His voice pitched higher. "Then how are you going to pay for Nora's surgery? Cassandra, stop being stubborn! Nora can't wait!"
I cut him off.
"You claim to care so much about Nora, yet I can count on one hand how many times you've visited her in the hospital."
I let the words hang. "Could it be you're more interested in getting your hands on that money?"
Silence. Then outrage, hot and defensive.
"You're being completely unreasonable! You don't even care about your own daughter—you don't deserve to be her mother!"
In my previous life, he had used those exact words to guilt me into trading my life for cash.
Not this time.
"Whether I deserve to be her mother," I said, my voice cold and level, "is not for you to judge."
"As for the money—I'll handle it. Don't trouble yourself."
I hung up before he could respond.
Let's see you try to steal my daughter's lifeline without your black magic, Elijah.
I found a deserted corner and scratched off every ticket in the stack.
One of them hit fifty million dollars.
I didn't rush to claim the prize. Instead, I went back to the hospital to check on my daughter.
When I entered the room, Nora was awake.
She lay in her bed, so small, so fragile. Her skin was flushed an unnatural red across every visible inch of her body.
The hallmark of a butterfly child. Skin as delicate as a butterfly's wing—the slightest touch could raise blisters, tear it open.
She saw me and whispered, "Mommy." Even that small effort was careful, measured. She was afraid of pulling at the skin on her face.
My eyes burned. I blinked hard to keep the tears from falling.
In my previous life, we couldn't afford the surgery. The delay let infection spread across her body, and she slipped away in the ICU.
She was four and a half years old.
