The Avalanche's Bitter Echo

The bank's mortgage approval process was agonizingly slow.

I turned and saw Dylan standing a few feet away, his face pale. He had clearly overheard my call with the hospital.

"Ava, his parents… are they really hurt? Caleb said this was all just some scheme to get his attention…"

I didn't have the energy for this. He could call Caleb himself.

I glanced at my watch, my anxiety mounting. A two-million-dollar transfer shouldn't take this long for someone like Marcus. I called him again.

"Uncle Marcus?"

"Ava, give it up," he said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "Look, his parents might have liked you, but the rest of the Hawthornes never accepted you."

"I sympathize with you, and I wanted to help. But you're just playing the victim. Who are you trying to fool? If you weren't always so dramatic, maybe Caleb wouldn't despise you so much."

My heart sank into a cold abyss. I knew the final two million dollars would never come.

"Uncle Marcus, did Caleb tell you to say that?" My voice trembled. "You don't have to believe me, but the hospital records can prove everything—"

Marcus cut me off. "Don't bother forging medical records to fool me. Even if you tricked me today, what about tomorrow?"

"Ava, I know you're obsessed with Caleb. The looks, the money—I get it. But his heart belongs to someone else, and she's back. If you're this miserable, why not just get a divorce?"

His vile words snapped my last nerve. I hung up, my expression turning to ice.

Caleb's parents were dying, and his family was using it as an opportunity to humiliate me.

Across the room, Dylan finally got through to Caleb.

"Caleb, listen to me! Your parents are really in trouble! They're in the hospital—"

He was cut off by Skylar's sickly sweet voice. "Oh, Dylan, don't tell me you're playing along with Ava's pathetic little act, too. How much did she pay you? Whatever it is, I'll double it."

Dylan's voice was frantic. "I'm not lying!"

Skylar handed the phone back to Caleb, bored. "Darling, it seems your cousin has been bought off by her, too."

Then came Caleb's cold voice. "Dylan, that's enough."

Dylan sounded on the verge of tears. "Caleb, your parents are in real danger! Transfer two million dollars to Ava's account now!"

Caleb sneered. "So it is about money after all. Tell Ava to stop the act. She's gone crazy. What did Skylar ever do to deserve being targeted like this?"

The line went dead.

With no other choice, I gave my lawyer a grim, bitter smile. "Let's go. Even without the full amount, we have to fly to Colorado and talk to the hospital."

"That's too risky," my lawyer protested.

I lowered my eyes. "I'm immediate family. They have to see me."

I raced to the hospital. The moment I stepped onto the ICU floor, the thick smell of antiseptic and despair hit me like a physical blow.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

I burst into the ICU room to the piercing shriek of the monitors. Two glaring flatlines stretched across the screens, stark as tombstones.

Caleb's parents—Arthur and Eleanor Hawthorne—were brain-dead, having missed the optimal window for surgery.

I rushed to their beds, wanting to shake them awake, but Eleanor's hand was already ice-cold. I broke down sobbing, trembling as I pulled out my phone to let Caleb see them one last time, but every call went straight to voicemail.

Caleb had blocked me.