Chapter 6 - The Secret Debt
Within three hours, my video had ten times the views of Lauren’s.
The internet is ruthless, and the backlash against my family was instantaneous.
Lauren deleted her video, but it was too late.
People had screen-recorded it and were posting it side-by-side with my hospital footage.
That evening, I received an email from an unknown address.
The subject line read: We need to talk. Please.
It was my father.
I showed the email to Julian.
“Ignore it,” Julian advised.
“Wait, look at this attachment,” I said, clicking a PDF file in the email.
It was a foreclosure notice.
My brow furrowed as I scanned the document.
“This is for my parents' house,” I said, stunned. “They’re three months behind on their mortgage.”
Julian leaned over, adjusting his glasses.
“That doesn’t make sense. You pay them a ten-thousand-dollar monthly stipend.”
“Where did the money go?” I whispered, genuinely confused.
Julian pulled out his laptop and started typing rapidly.
“As your financial proxy, I can look into the trust distributions,” he said.
Ten minutes later, he let out a low whistle.
“What is it?” I asked, my stomach knotting.
“They haven't been paying their mortgage because they’ve been paying Lauren’s husband’s business debts,” Julian explained.
I stared at him in disbelief.
Lauren’s husband, Greg, had started a failed crypto-mining company two years ago.
“I explicitly refused to fund Greg’s company,” I said, anger rising in my throat.
“They did an end-run around you,” Julian said quietly. “They funneled your allowance directly to Greg.”
“And now they’re losing their house,” I realized.
“Which is why they were so desperate to keep Lauren happy,” Julian concluded. “They needed her to let them move into her new house.”
It all clicked into place.
The frantic unpacking. The desperate need to secure the nursery.
They weren't just being negligent parents.
They were broke, and they were using Lauren as their retirement plan.
“They didn’t come to the hospital because they were trying to secure their own roof,” I said, a bitter taste in my mouth.
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“Does this change anything?” Julian asked carefully.
“Yes,” I said, my voice turning to ice. “It makes it worse.”
