?<strong>Chapter 263:</strong>


    Joelle and Shawn stood before their mother’s gravestone, their eyes locked on her photograph etched into the stone. Their mother’s final resting ce was here as well. In the picture, she looked radiant. Her face reflected gentleness and grace that even the blind could see. Even Leah often spoke fondly of their mother, calling her a truly remarkable woman.


    But fate had been cruel. Not long after their father’s tragic ident, their mother died in a car crash.


    “Joelle,” Shawn said seriously. “You still remember how Mom died, right?”


    “Yeah, of course I do,” Joelle replied, her face somber. As the wind howled through the cemetery and the rain poured, their thoughts grew sharp and focused. To most, their mother’s death had been nothing more than a tragic ident. But only Joelle and Shawn knew the darker truth: she had taken her own life.


    They had consulted more experts than they could count, each one confirming the same unnerving detail—there were no skid marks, no sign of braking. The car had plunged straight off the cliff.


    Their mother had always been a fortress, unshakable even when their father’s health deteriorated. She wasn’t the kind to surrender, not like that. So why had she done it? What had broken her spirit sopletely? Had her hopeful, resilient demeanor been nothing more than a facade? Had some unseen tragedy struck her down in her final days? It was an enigma they were no closer to solving.


    “I dug into everyone Mom interacted with in herst weeks,” Shawn said. “There was nothing—no red gs, nothing suspicious.”


    “So what now? Do we keep digging, Shawn?” Joelle asked. Years had passed since their mother’s death. If there were any buried secrets, surely they would have surfaced by now. The truth seemed as unreachable as their father’s recovery.


    They stood at a crossroads: chase answers that could nevere, or stop and live with the feeling that they had failed their mother.


    “We’re keeping looking. We owe her that much,” Shawn replied without hesitation.


    After the funeral, Humphrey’s death sent shockwaves through the family. Rafael, lost in his ambition of bing a doctor, found himself woefully unprepared to handle the business affairs left behind. It didn’t help that contracts, documents, and urgent decisions were piling up on his desk, threatening to bury him.


    All of Humphrey’s business partners were demanding to pull out of their agreements, one after another. Earlier that day, Belle had copsed at the funeral, ovee by grief, and was now resting. Thewyer, ever methodical,id out the facts.


    “Mr. Romero had been preparing for a major project this year, partnering with several key yers. But one of them hit financial trouble and took out a $20 billion loan from the bank. Mr. Romero had signed on as a guarantor, but the man fled, taking the project ns—and the money—with him.”


    Anger surged through Rafael like a tidal wave, so overwhelming that his legs buckled beneath him. Rafael listened in silence, his face expressionless. He’d made a vow long ago when he chose to pursue medicine, to keep his hands clean of the family’s business dealings.


    “The person ran off with the money… That’s the reason my dad’s dead, right?” Rafael said, tracing his fingers absentmindedly over the smooth covers of each contract.


    Thewyer, sensing Rafael’s growing tension and fearing he could do something rash, offered a calming suggestion. “Let the police handle it. They’ll investigate, and the documents and funds will be returned.”


    Rafael’s lips curled into a bitter smile, sharp as broken ss. “Sure, they can recover the money. But can they bring back my father?”


    Thewyer fell silent, unable to muster a response. Liza, standing beside Rafael, looped her arm through his. “Rafael, you still have me and Mom.” Rafael pulled away. Airing their family’s dirtyundry in front of others was humiliating.


    Suddenly, Belle’s distressed voice echoed from upstairs. “Can’t you give us a little time? The money isn’t ours to pay back! My husband just died, and you’re ready to throw us out on the street?”


    Rafael’s heart clenched as he rushed up the stairs. There, he found Belle hunched over the table, clutching her phone, her body trembling and barely able to hold her up. He had already lost his father; he couldn’t bear the thought of losing his mother too.


    “Mom!”


    Belle clung to him, her sobs shaking her frail frame. “Rafael, your father mortgaged the house. Now that he’s gone, the bank wants their money already. We’re going to lose everything! What are we going to do? How are we supposed to survive this? Why is this happening to us?”


    “Mom, listen,” Rafael said, stroking her back to calm her. “It’ll be okay. We’ve got other houses. We can move.”


    “Twenty billion, Rafael! Twenty billion!”


    To Belle, the sum was beyondprehension. She had never paid much attention to Humphrey’s business affairs. All she knew was that their wealth seemed infinite, an ever-flowing river. The idea that one bad deal could drain everything dry had never crossed her mind.


    “Rafael, what are we going to do? How are we going to survive?”


    Her cries seemed endless until finally, she copsed in a faint.


    The next day, the bank’s representatives arrived to collect the debt. Two billion. That was the initial blow. Rafael, along with the familywyer and ountant, had stayed up all night, frantically going over the books, trying to gather whatever assets they could liquidate.


    Even if they sold everything they had, they’d barely cover a quarter of the debt. And then what? They’d have nothing left—not even a roof over their heads.


    The bank’s staff offered their condolences for Humphrey’s passing before getting down to business. The debt collection had to proceed.


    Belle stepped forward. “Do you have nopassion? Can’t you give us just a few more days?”


    The staff member, looking ufortable but resolute, replied, “We’ve already given you extra time. I’m just following protocol.”


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