Chapter 133: The Ledger in the Lining

Aveline's POV

"Wake up, sweetheart," a voice said loudly, Someone was shaking my shoulder. I jerked awake, my heart pounding. A nurse in blue clothes was standing over my chair. Behind her, two men were unlocking the wheels of my mother’s hospital bed.

The quiet room was suddenly full of fast movement.

"What is happening?" I asked. I forced a deep, steady voice out of my throat as I stood up.

We're moving her to the cardiac ward on the second floor," the nurse said as she checked the IV line. "Her heart beat too fast in her sleep. The doctor wants to watch her closely. We need to clear this room right now."

Kieran stood up from the couch. He looked at the medical staff, then turned his eyes to me. "I am going downstairs to the lobby to grab us both a hot coffee before they lock the new ward doors. I will meet you on the second floor."

I nodded as he walked out into the hall. The men carefully pushed the rolling bed through the doorway. The nurse followed them. I was completely alone in the empty, quiet room.

I needed to move fast. I turned to the wooden table to gather my mother's things before the cleaning staff arrived. Asher was only able to attend Crestwood because of his scholarship. Months of hospital bills had drained every cent our family had saved.Her compact mirror, her keys, and her handbag were sitting near the edge.

I grabbed the handbag by its straps and lifted it from the table, but it caught on the sharp corner of the drawer. It ripped open a hidden inner pocket along the side of the bag, tearing it completely open. Something slid out.

I bent down and picked it up, feeling my fingers freeze against the paper. It was a thick, white envelope without a stamp or postmark. On the front, in my mother's sharp, messy handwriting, was a name: Dr. Joanna Vincent.

Dr. Joanna Vincent. The same name from Mom's therapy booklet. My heart suddenly and violently flipped inside my chest. My mother had concealed this in the pocket of her bag. With trembling fingers, I slid my thumb under the thick paper seal and tore it open.

It was a handwritten page covered in my mother's own writing. Instead of a letter, it was a document full of lists of account balances, long rows of wallet IDs, and digital transaction records. My eyes moved lower. I noticed multiple payment records and digital wallet addresses.

Stapled directly to the back of the page was an official hospital payment receipt from the main desk, dated just months ago. It was a cleared statement. Every single cent of Asher's massive intensive care treatment bill had been paid off in full.Every bill had been cleared. The debt that had been crushing our family was gone.

"Asher?" a voice called from the doorway.

I jumped. I quickly hid the papers against my chest. Kieran was standing there, holding two hot paper cups of coffee. He looked at my face and came straight toward me. "What is wrong? What did you find?"

I did not answer. I just stepped out into the quiet, empty hallway with him and handed him the handwritten papers and the cleared hospital receipt.

Kieran took the documents. His eyes tracked the rows of numbers in deep silence. His jaw tightened.

This doesn't make any sense," Kieran murmured, staring at the figures."Where did your mother get this kind of cash? Paying off a medical debt this big in such a short time would take a fortune.

"I know," I murmured, my voice shaking as fear settled deep in my stomach. "Then where did Mom get enough to pay all of Asher's hospital bills? And why was she hiding these account records?"

The rows of wallet IDs and transaction records meant nothing to me. I didn't understand what I was looking at, but one thing was obvious. Mom had hidden these papers for a reason. Whatever they were, they were important enough to keep secret.

Kieran frowned as he looked at the envelope again. "I don't understand," he said quietly. "Why would your mom address a financial statement to her therapist?" He glanced up at me. "Either she told Dr. Vincent about all of this during therapy and wanted to give her proof... or Dr. Vincent already knows something we don't."

Then I looked down at the envelope in my hands. Mom had never mentioned Dr. Joanna Vincent or her therapy sessions. If Kieran was right, then Dr. Vincent wasn't just her therapist anymore. She might be the only person who knew why Mom had kept these records.