AVERY POV:
I sat in front of the laptop all night, the blue light burning my eyes.
I scrolled through countless job sites and forums. Waitressing, tutoring, barista gigs... the pay was a drop in the ocean compared to the hundreds of thousands of dollars the hospital needed.
I looked up student loans for medical school, even radical clinical trials. Nothing worked. I didn't qualify, or it would take too long.
Sunlight streamed through the window, but I felt no warmth. Only a deep, gnawing chill.
A heavy, impatient knock on my door shattered the morning silence.
I opened it, expecting my roommate. Instead, Trevor stood there. He looked slightly disheveled, holding a bouquet of cheap white roses from a corner store.
He didn't look remorseful. He looked annoyed.
"Finally," he grumbled, pushing past me into the apartment without an invitation. "Sienna is a nightmare in the morning. She doesn't even know how to use a coffee machine, and she complained about the sheets not being silk. I'm starving, Avery. Make me those blueberry pancakes I like."
He shoved the roses toward my chest. "Here. I bought you flowers. Now stop being dramatic and let's move on."
I stared at him, utterly paralyzed by the sheer audacity of this man.
He actually thought a bouquet of cheap gas-station flowers was enough to erase his betrayal. He expected me to just tie on an apron and cook for him, exactly like the obedient servant I had been for three years.
A fresh wave of nausea hit me. I snatched the roses from his hands.
"See? I knew you'd come around—" he started to smirk.
Snap.
I broke the stems in half and dumped the ruined flowers directly into the trash can by the door.
"I told you last night," I said, my eyes dead and hollow. "Keep the trash. Now get the hell out of my apartment before I call the cops."
Trevor's smirk vanished. His face flushed a dark, ugly red.
"Are you out of your mind?" he yelled, his voice echoing in the small room. "I swallowed my pride to come here and give you a way out! You have zero money, Avery! That old nanny of yours is probably taking her last breath right now! If you kick me out, who the hell is going to help you? You'll be crawling back to me on your knees by tomorrow!"
"I would rather watch you burn in hell than ever beg you for a single cent," I said, my voice eerily calm.
I shoved him hard in the chest, forcing him out into the hallway, and slammed the door in his face, locking the deadbolt.
He pounded on the door a few times, shouting curses, before finally stomping away.
But getting rid of a piece of garbage didn't solve my nightmare. The countdown was ticking. 48 hours left.
My hands trembled violently as I picked up my phone and dialed the one number I had sworn never to call.
Fiona Pierce. My adoptive mother.
The phone rang so long I thought she'd ignore it. Finally, she answered. The sound of clinking teacups and classical music played in the background.
"Avery?" Her voice was clipped, laced with extreme impatience. "Make it quick. I'm having morning tea with Mrs. Knight."
I swallowed my pride, crushing it into dust. "Mom... it's Hannah. Her liver failure is terminal. The hospital needs fifty thousand dollars by tomorrow for the transplant surgery. Please, I'm begging you. Can you and Dad help me?"
A long, chilling silence followed.
Then, Fiona let out a soft, elegant laugh that made my blood run cold.
"Fifty thousand dollars?" she mused, as if discussing the price of a cheap pair of shoes. "Avery, I just spent twice that amount on a custom diamond collar for my poodle. But for that old, useless nanny?"
Her voice suddenly dropped, sharp and merciless as a razor blade. "We took you in to boost the Pierce Group's charitable image. We paid for your tuition. That is where our 'generosity' ends. Hannah is a servant. Her cheap life isn't worth a single cent of my money."
"But she raised me!" I choked out, tears of pure desperation finally blurring my vision. "She's family!"
"She's a nobody!" Fiona snapped viciously. "And so are you. Remember your place, Avery. You are a stray dog we allowed into our yard. Dogs don't get to make demands."