The clink of cutlery against plates and the low murmur of customers filled the warm air of Morning Brew Café. The smell of fresh coffee and buttered biscuits lingered in the room, wrapping around Isabella Howells like a familiar blanket. She moved quickly between tables, balancing a tray on one hand, the other holding a steaming cup of cappuccino for table four.
It wasn't her dream job—far from it—but it paid the bills. And for now, that was enough.
She pasted on a polite smile as she set the cup down in front of a middle-aged man who barely glanced up from his newspaper. "Your cappuccino, sir."
He gave a distracted nod, already turning a page.
Isabella straightened, pressing the tray to her hip as she glanced toward the counter where her manager, Mrs. Turner, stood watching. The older woman's sharp eyes never missed a thing. One wrong move, and Isabella knew she'd be getting an earful.
Her life wasn't exactly what she'd imagined at twenty-three. She'd thought by now she would be building a career she loved, maybe traveling, or maybe even starting her own business. Instead, she was serving coffee six days a week.
Still… there were things she was grateful for. She was getting married in just three months to the man she loved. She had her younger sister, Rachel, who she adored and had practically raised. And their mother—despite her fragile health—was at home recovering from her last round of treatment.
It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to keep her going.
She was setting down a plate of pancakes when her phone began buzzing in the pocket of her apron. She ignored it. Mrs. Turner had a strict no phones during work policy, and she couldn't risk another warning.
But then it buzzed again. And again.
Frowning, Isabella slid the phone out, ready to silence it. Her heart skipped when she saw the caller ID.
It was her sister, Rachel.
Her brows drew together. Rachel knew she was working. She wouldn't be calling unless—
Without thinking about it, she answered on the third ring. "Rachel? What's—"
"Bella—Mom's collapsed." Her sister's voice cracked like glass under strain. "She—she's not breathing right. I called the ambulance and we're at St Mary's, but they're saying she's in critical condition and they wouldn't start treatment without a down payment. You have to come now. They don't know if she'll—"
The phone nearly slipped from Isabella's hand. The restaurant faded around her—voices muffled, lights blurring. "What? I'm on my way."
Isabella turned to the counter but then Mrs Turner was no longer in sight.
She wanted to wait and take permission from her but she couldn't. The more time she stood her waiting, the more her mother's life was at risk.
Without thinking hard about it, Isabella removed her apron, dropped it on the counter and ran out, leaving the café unattended.
The cab ride to the hospital felt endless. Her knee bounced the entire way, her mind running through the steps she'd take. She had savings—enough to get her mom started on treatment immediately. She just needed to get there, pay, and everything would be fine.
When she finally reached St. Mary's, she spotted Rachel pacing in the waiting area, her face pale and anxious.
"Bella," Rachel rushed to her, gripping her arm. "They won't do anything until we pay."
"I'll handle it," Isabella said, forcing calm into her voice. "I have the money."
They went to the billing desk together. Isabella gave her account card to the clerk, a man whose expression didn't change as he ran it through the machine.
A beep. Then he frowned. "It's been declined."
"What? That's impossible." Isabella forced a tight smile. "Run it again."
He did. There was another beep and another shake of his head.
"That can't be right," she whispered, fumbling for her phone. She opened her banking app and her stomach lurched violently.
Her savings balance stared back at her. It was empty. Nothing there.
Isabella stared at her phone screen, her heart sinking as she refreshed the banking app for the third time.
Still nothing. Not a single money left. She blinked, hoping it was some kind of glitch on the app, but the zeroes remained, indicating her account was empty and the decline earlier.
This wasn't a glitch.
"What's going on, Bella?" Rachel asked but Bella couldn't hear her.
Tears stung in her eyes as she looked down at her phone, feeling suffocated from the reality in front of her. She couldn't breathe, her chest tightening with each passing second.
All her savings, the money she had carefully put aside for times like this, were all gone. She couldn't believe it.
Her throat went dry. No. No, no, no. She scrolled through the transactions, her heart sinking as she saw the withdrawals—every last cent gone. And worse—there was a large loan under her name, secured against her mother's house.
Her vision blurred. The only person who had access to her account information was…
Ethan.
Her fiancé. Why could he have done this with telling her? What did he use the money for? Was that even what she was supposed to be thinking?
The questions swirled in her mind, but one truth cut through them all—none of it mattered right now. She needed money. She needed it now. Or her mother was going to die.