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The Retirement Fund My Sons Built For Me Was Suddenly Emptied! Novel Cover

The Retirement Fund My Sons Built For Me Was Suddenly Emptied!

Diagnosed with cancer, a mother discovers her $1.8 million retirement fund—supposedly built by her three sons over a decade—is completely empty. Instead of helping, her greedy children demand massive payouts. When they find the account drained, their furious accusations and relentless pressure lead to her fatal fall. Miraculously, she wakes up back on the day of her hospital deposit, determined to uncover the truth behind the stolen money.
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Chapter 1

Miriam's POV

My three well-educated sons once promised to contribute to my retirement fund, each giving me five grand a month.

“Mom, you’ve worked hard your whole life. It’s time you enjoyed it,” they said.

In my previous life, I was deeply moved. I thought I had finally made it through the hardest part.

But ten years later, I was diagnosed with cancer, and I found out my retirement card didn’t even have enough money to cover a five-grand hospital deposit.

Then, the oldest called. He said he was short of $200,000 to buy a new house and needed to "borrow" my retirement savings.

Then, the second son showed up at the hospital with his wife and child. Not even asking how I was doing, he said he needed $100,000 to send his kid to an overseas summer camp.

The youngest also followed, asking for $80,000 to help him buy a new car.

When they found out the account had no money, all three of them were furious.

“We’ve been putting in five grand each, every single month, for ten years. That’s 1.8 million dollars! How could there be no money?”

To figure out what happened to the funds, they rallied friends and relatives to pressure me. They even accused me of being a disgrace to the elderly.

Under all that emotional stress, I lost my balance, fell down the stairs, and died on the spot.

When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day I was supposed to pay the hospital deposit.

——

“Family of Miriam Conner? Please proceed to the first floor to pay the hospital deposit,” a nurse called out.

I jolted at the sound, instinctively clutching the retirement card in my hand.

But this time, I didn’t swipe it.

Instead, I called my best friend who lived thousands of miles away.

Just then, my phone rang again. It was my eldest, Oliver Conner. With an urgent tone, he said, “Mom, I found a great house in a top school district. Already put down a deposit, just short of 200,000 now. That retirement fund in your card is just sitting there anyway. Why not let me borrow it for now? Just to get through this deal, okay?”

The moment I heard those familiar words, it hit me. I had really come back.

In my previous life, after raising three sons into top students, they suddenly had a heartfelt discussion one day.

“Mom, ever since Dad passed, you’ve had it so rough raising us all on your own. We haven’t forgotten.”

“Now that we’re working, it’s time for you to live well.”

“From now on, the three of us will each deposit five grand into a retirement card for you every month. Think of it as your pension fund.”

And just like that, for ten years straight, I received three text messages every month. Each one confirmed a five-grand deposit.

That card became my peace of mind, my lifeline for old age.

Even my neighbors envied me, saying I was finally reaping the rewards after years of hardship.

But I never expected that this card would turn into my worst nightmare.

The day I tried to pay the hospital deposit, the card was declined, not even a four-digit balance. My mind went blank. I immediately told my eldest, who had just called.

But I never expected his reaction.

Without even asking questions, he exploded, “We’ve been putting in five grand each, every single month, for ten years. That’s 1.8 million dollars! How could there be no money?”

“Mom, stop pretending. This money is for your retirement, not for you to blow on whatever you want! Come on, transfer me 200,000. I need to sign the contract today!” he urged.

The sudden disappearance of the retirement fund left me confused and hurt.

I knew how hard my sons worked for their money. That was why, in all these years, I never even bought myself a new outfit without thinking twice.

How could I have touched the money, let alone wasted it?

Before I could say a word, my second and third sons walked into the hospital room.

I thought they were there to check on me, maybe even help pay for the surgery.

But instead, the second one opened his mouth and said, “Mom, I need 100,000. My son’s applying for a summer camp abroad.”

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