Chapter 3
Cold fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting harsh shadows across the empty computer room filled only with server buzzing and frantic keyboard clicking.
I sat beside Maya, watching multiple monitors flood with code and data streams, my heart pounding.
"Maya, I know it's late, but this could be about my mother's life." I clutched the printed medical report in trembling hands.
Maya didn't look up, her fingers dancing across the keyboard: "Luna, cut the drama. Hand me that report and let me see what kind of bullshit we're dealing with."
She scanned the medical file into the system, and hexadecimal code instantly flooded the screens.
Minutes later, Maya suddenly stopped, pointing at a string of code: "Luna, this is amateur hour. The digital signature is copy-pasted from a legitimate document, but the timestamp doesn't match."
My blood nearly froze: "So you're saying this entire medical report is fabricated?"
Maya continued typing, more data emerging: "Not just fabricated—it's a rush job. Whoever did this wanted it done fast and didn't care about covering their tracks."
The metadata displayed on screen shocked me: File creation time: Yesterday, 2 PM.
"This isn't from last week's report date," I whispered, trembling. "This was created yesterday afternoon, just hours after I decided to transfer the money!"
Maya spun her chair to face me: "How good are your brother's computer skills?"
"Orion? He can barely use Excel."
"Then someone's helping him." Maya's eyes turned sharp. "And this person was in a hurry."
4 AM, Maya's investigation went deeper. I paced around the lab while Vancouver's quiet nightscape stretched beyond the windows, but my inner world erupted like a volcano.
"Holy shit, Luna." Maya suddenly screamed. "Your brother is running multiple crowdfunding scams. Look at this—'Emergency Surgery for Suicidal Mother,' 'Family Crisis Needs Help.'"
I rushed to the screen, seeing Orion's accounts on at least three crowdfunding platforms. Each one themed around "save my suicidal mother."
"Twelve thousand dollars?" My voice shattered. "From strangers who think they're helping a dying woman?"
"One hundred twenty thousand, not twelve." Maya corrected me. "He's already raised $120,000."
I felt dizzy, gripping the desk edge to keep from falling.
Maya kept working, her voice growing angrier: "And get this—his phone's GPS puts him at the River Rock Casino yesterday at 3 PM, not at any hospital."
The screen showed Orion's location tracking: the past week entirely in Vancouver Downtown, yesterday at 3 PM posting from River Rock Casino with the caption "Luck's turning around!"
"He wasn't even in Kamloops." My voice felt strangled. "Last night's 'hospital call'..."
"Complete performance," Maya said coldly.
By the time dawn broke over Vancouver, I felt like I'd aged a decade. The twenty-minute drive from UBC to my apartment passed in a blur of streetlights and early commuters beginning their normal lives—lives that suddenly seemed impossibly simple compared to mine.
6 AM, I dragged my exhausted body back to the apartment. In the living room, Phoenix sat on the couch, laptop open, clearly awake all night.
Morning light filtered through blinds, casting striped shadows across his face.
"Luna, we need to talk." His voice was hoarse. "I've been trying to protect us from Orion's mess for months. These bank transfers? They're to secure accounts that he can't access."
He opened his laptop, showing email records with a lawyer.
"Then why didn't you tell me? Why all the secrecy?" I demanded, suspicion still flooding my heart.
Phoenix looked into my eyes, exhaustion mixed with pain: "Because I hoped I could fix it without destroying your relationship with your family. I know how much they mean to you."
He showed more evidence: Sierra was indeed a private investigator hired by other fraud victims.
"Her target wasn't me—it was your brother. But she needed to get close to you through me." Phoenix's voice carried guilt. "I contacted Dr. Morrison to verify that medical report's authenticity, not to participate in fraud."
"So you knew all along?"
"I suspected, but had no proof. When I saw that report yesterday, I knew something was wrong."
Looking at the detailed evidence on his computer and his exhausted face, the suspicion in my heart began to waver. Although I still had thousands of questions, I knew that now our common enemy was the lies themselves.
"We need to find her," I said.
The morning rush at Blenz Coffee Shop provided perfect cover for what felt like a clandestine meeting. Steam rose from espresso machines, creating a haze that seemed to mirror the confusion of the past 48 hours.
This time Phoenix and I walked in together. Sierra was already seated at the corner table. When she saw us arrive together, surprise flashed across her face.
"I apologize for yesterday's deception," Sierra began directly, "but I needed to gauge how much you knew about your brother's activities."
She spread open thick file folders: "I am indeed a private investigator. Initially, I was hired to investigate Phoenix—several fraud victims suspected he was connected to their losses. But during my investigation, I discovered your brother was the real mastermind."
My heart nearly stopped: "You're saying Orion has been doing this to other families?"
Sierra nodded seriously: "At least eight that we know of. Young professional women, always with aging parents, always with just enough assets to make it worthwhile."
She displayed Orion's criminal file: small-scale fraud from university days, gradually escalating to complex family financial manipulation.
"Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto—he's been targeting victims nationwide." Sierra continued. "But you're his biggest score yet."
"Biggest?"
"You may have already taken on over $500,000 in debt using your identity. And now he faces criminal charges."
Phoenix squeezed my hand: "This is why I had to move our assets. If Orion gets arrested, creditors will come after all your property."
The parking lot outside felt like neutral territory after the intensity of the coffee shop. I needed the cool morning air to process everything I'd just learned.
I sat in Phoenix's truck, phone on the dashboard with speaker on. My hands trembled as I dialed Kamloops General Hospital.
"Kamloops General Hospital."
"I need to check on my mother's admission. Serena Stella, should have been emergency admitted night before last."
Keyboard clicking, then heartbreaking silence.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we have no record of a Serena Stella being admitted in the past 72 hours. Are you sure you have the right hospital?"
My voice began shaking: "Could you check under any variation of the name? She would have been brought in for... for self-harm."
More searching sounds.
The operator answered again: "No emergency admissions matching that description, ma'am. Perhaps you should contact the patient directly?"
After hanging up, deadly silence filled the truck.
Phoenix said softly: "Luna, I'm so sorry."
"Twenty-eight years." I stared at students walking past outside. "For twenty-eight years, I thought I was protecting my family. Turns out I was just an ATM."
"You're not naive—you're loving. Orion exploited that love, but that doesn't make you foolish." Phoenix held my hand.
I took a deep breath and made my decision: "We're driving to Kamloops tonight. I need to see my mother with my own eyes and end this charade once and for all."