The Intern Who Transferred My Money Chapter 1

The intern, Nancy, had set up a deposit transfer on my account. No matter how much I deposited, the balance always reset to fifty dollars.

In my past life, my biggest dream was to buy an apartment near the office. I finally saved the fifty-thousand-dollar down payment, my hands shaking as I handed over my card.

But the agent just looked at me with pity. "Declined. Insufficient funds."

I checked statements, argued with the bank, even filed a police report. Everyone thought I was crazy. Every transaction was there, clear as day, but I hadn’t made any of them.

I sobbed to my parents, only to be scolded. "Nora, if you need money, just ask. You don’t have to lie," my mom said, sharp with disappointment.

My coworkers smirked at my statements. "Look, Nora’s spending thousands at The Velvet Rope after midnight. Wonder what kind of escort costs that much?"

I posted my story online anonymously, but was called an attention-seeker. Only one comment offered real advice: watch the people around you.

So I did. Every time Nancy bought something—even a coffee—a matching charge appeared on my account.

I confronted her. She laughed, called me pathetic, and convinced everyone I was having a breakdown. They had me committed.

After two years of torment, I escaped and jumped into the river.

When I opened my eyes, I was back, the day before I was supposed to buy my apartment.

* * *

The first thing I did after my rebirth was check my online banking.

Just as I expected: fifty dollars.

My mind raced, piecing it all together. By now, Nancy had already siphoned my life savings into her own account using some dark, digital magic. I wanted to tear her apart, to drag her down with me, but then I remembered the image of my parents from my last life, their hair turned white with grief overnight. I couldn't be reckless. That would just be a repeat of the same tragedy.

Just then, my department manager, Kate, called me into her office.

"Nora, I've got a tough client for you, but the commission is a sweet five grand. Don't say I never look out for you!"

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. Five thousand dollars. That was a month's rent, with plenty left over.

But I shook my head.

"Thanks, Kate. But I'm not taking any new clients for the next month."

I walked out of her office, ignoring her stunned silence. The office walls were thin, and the chatter outside died down as my words carried. Instantly, the whispers started.

Did you hear that? Nora—'The Machine'—is turning down a commission?

Not just today! She said for the whole month!

I ignored them, pulled out my phone, and opened a delivery app. I ordered the largest iced Americano they had, and with a tap, the last fifty dollars in my account vanished.

In my past life, I wouldn't have even spent four dollars on a sugary latte from the corner cart.

To put down roots in the concrete jungle of Sterling City, I had lived on a knife’s edge. I worked until two or three in the morning doing client follow-ups, then woke before dawn to cram myself into a subway car packed like a can of sardines for a two-hour commute, all just to clock in on time.

Fifty dollars docked for being late once. That was almost a week's worth of food.

All I dreamed of was a place of my own near the office, even if it was just a tiny, three-hundred-square-foot studio. Every payday, I'd allow myself a hundred dollars for living expenses. The rest went straight into my savings.

And now, the fifty thousand I had bled for was lining someone else's pocket.

Suddenly, the office door flew open.

"Lunch is on me, everyone!"

It was Nancy, her voice obnoxiously loud. Her face was flushed with excitement, a brand-new Chanel bag swinging from her arm. She looked like she'd just hit the lottery.

"We're going to The Meridian Grand! Order whatever you want!"

The office erupted. Coworkers swarmed her.

"Nancy, did you strike it rich?"

"Who's the sugar daddy?"

I didn't move. I just sipped my coffee, my eyes cold as ice as I watched her. I knew exactly where the money came from. It was mine.

Nancy, basking in the attention, waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, it was nothing. I just bought a lottery ticket the other day and got lucky."

Someone nosy immediately pressed, "How lucky?"