The Reborn Heiress And Her Zero Balance Account

I drove home on New Year’s Day, the air thick with the inevitable. My mother, Eleanor, her voice paper-thin from the late-stage cancer, had summoned the whole family. The agenda: a public, final division of the estate.

“The doctor gives me a month, tops,” she said, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I’m settling the estate now to save everyone the trouble later.”

“The house, the stocks, everything has been liquidated. I’ve wired the funds to your individual accounts. Check your balances.”

My sister-in-law, Brooke, and my younger brother, Trevor, were instantly rewarded with a flurry of dings—deposit notifications flooding their phones. A substantial check even went to Mom’s long-time nurse. But my phone, sitting cold and dark in my hand, was a tomb of silence.

Mom didn’t argue. She took the money she’d set aside for her own burial plot and, in front of everyone, initiated a second transfer to me. Moments later, the bank’s customer service called, confirming the successful transaction. Yet, my account remained chillingly, impossibly empty.

The relatives’ faces twisted instantly. They pointed, shouting that I was a greedy viper, trying to steal my dying mother’s last cent and staging an elaborate act. I was physically thrown out of the house. Wandering the street, numb and lost, I was struck by a piece of falling debris and killed instantly. My final, suffocating thought was the mystery: The transfers were confirmed. Why did only my money vanish?

I opened my eyes. I was back. The rewind button had been pressed, dropping me into the minute before my mother finalized the transfers.

1

My phone screen was blank, utterly devoid of the notification I was waiting for.

I pinched my thigh, hard. The jolt of pain was a searing, unmistakable confirmation. I was here.

Just as in the first life, Mom, frail and barely propped up against the pillows, her skeletal fingers trembling, pressed the final button on her tablet. That transfer was the sum of her life’s work, and in the last timeline, it had been the countdown to my death.

Ding.

Brooke’s phone shrieked. She let out a laugh so sharp it sounded like fingernails scraping a chalkboard.

“Oh my God, Mom! A million dollars! You are a goddamn saint!”

She held her screen high, making sure everyone saw it. But her eyes were fixed on me, the corner of her mouth curling into a sneer of pure mockery.

Ding.

Next was Trevor, my younger brother. He was practically kissing his phone screen, his mouth watering with anticipation.

“I’m back in the game! I can finally double up the principal! I’m rich!” he babbled, consumed by his usual gambling fantasies.

The entire crowd of relatives shifted their focus to me.

The air solidified.

I stared at the phone on my lap. As expected, no vibration, no sound, the screen dark and utterly still. A dead silence.

I’d already confirmed the account details were correct. Mom would never intentionally exclude me. It wasn’t a mistake on her end.

Mom struggled to lift her eyelids, her voice weak as a falling leaf.

“Sierra, did you get yours?”

I took a deep breath and deliberately turned my screen toward the room.

“Zero balance.” The two words were heavy, dropping into the silence like stones.

The relatives erupted in a low, poisonous murmur.

“How is that possible? Everyone else got it.”

“She’s obviously pulling a stunt. Trying to get Mom to give her an extra cut later.”

“Told you she was never as meek as she looked. She’s got too much nerve.”

The low whispers pricked my skin like a thousand needles.

Mom frowned and opened her banking app for everyone to see. She handed her tablet to my older brother, Marcus, to display the receipt.

The successful transfer notification was clear, undeniable.

The room buzzed.

Brooke crossed her arms, her tone dripping with passive-aggression. “Sierra, come on. That’s pathetic, even for you. The money’s gone through. Are you going to keep this act up until Mom hands you the money for her casket, too?”

Trevor, his eyes glittering with contempt, immediately backed her up.

“Sis, just ask for more if you need it. There’s no need for this elaborate show—it’s embarrassing. Mom is sick, and you’re putting on this act? Have you lost your conscience?”

I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug into my palms. Again. In the last life, they had drowned me in their collective scorn, one lie after another.

Mom cut them off, dissolving into a hacking cough.

“Cough, cough… Stop fighting… There might be a delay. Don’t accuse Sierra.”

“Sierra, call the bank and confirm.”

Trevor scoffed loudly. “Mom, you always favor her! Why are you still defending her? You wouldn’t give me a dime when I was getting squeezed by loan sharks, but she’s clearly pulling a fast one, and you’re making excuses!”

I shot to my feet, pointing a trembling finger at Trevor. “You’re unbelievable! Is there a limit to how low you’ll sink? Your debt was your own fault! Mom was trying to teach you a lesson—not ‘playing favorites’!”

Trevor lunged at me, but our cousin, David, grabbed him just in time.

I knew from my past experience that a phone call to customer service would lead nowhere. I grabbed my purse, my gaze sweeping the room, ice cold.

“No need to call. I’m going to a branch right now. I’ll check the account at the teller.”

“I’m going to prove I’m not lying.”

We descended upon The State Trust like a vigilante mob, half-crusade, half-public-shaming.

I slapped my debit card onto the glass counter.

“I need a balance check, a full transaction history, and I need you to confirm there are no third-party deduction agreements.”

The teller, a young woman, was clearly rattled by the crowd. She quickly began typing. The clicking of the keyboard echoed loudly in the silent lobby.

A minute later, she looked up, her expression strange.

“Ma’am, I’ve checked three times.”

“The account status is totally normal—no freezes or flags. No third-party deductions.”

“The one-million dollar wire transfer is showing as successful.”

I leaned in. “What about the balance?”

The teller swallowed hard. “The balance… is zero.”

The entire lobby went dead quiet.

Brooke was the first to break the silence, a cold, mocking laugh ringing out.

“Oh, Sierra. I never knew. When did you get your hack-of-the-year certification? You can trick the bank’s system? The money went in, but the balance is zero? Where the hell did it go? Did you eat it? With this kind of genius, maybe the whole family should start depending on you to make a fortune!”

The relatives’ eyes narrowed. I was no longer a greedy sister; I was a high-IQ criminal, an avaricious freak.

Marcus pulled Brooke back, frowning at me. “Don’t be an idiot, Brooke. Sierra wouldn’t do that.”

He pulled out his phone. “Sierra, I’ll send you a hundred dollars right now. Let’s see if you can even get that.”

Ding.

Marcus’s phone showed a successful deduction.

The teller refreshed the page. “Funds received.”

I pointed to the screen. “The balance.”

The teller gulped. “The balance… is still zero.”

Now even Marcus looked stunned. “Are you kidding me? What the hell is going on?”

The branch manager, a harried man in a suit, rushed over to check personally. The sender’s account (Marcus) was fine. The receiver’s account (Sierra) was fine. The manager patted his chest, guaranteeing on his career that the system was incapable of “losing money.”

Brooke and Marcus’s faces flushed with alarm.

Brooke suddenly shrieked. “Give me back my money, Sierra! Give us back that hundred dollars! That was my son’s allowance! No, give us back two hundred, with interest!”

I refused to believe it. I pulled a thick stack of cash—ten thousand dollars—off the supply money for my seafood restaurant, The Catch. I normally used this for cash transactions with older vendors.

“Deposit cash, please.”

The sharp whir of the counting machine sliced through the quiet tension of the lobby.

The screen confirmed the deposit.

I stared at the teller. “The balance.”

Her hands were shaking. She performed the transaction and her face instantly turned ghost-white.

“Ms. Ellison…”

“The balance… remains zero.”

She stammered, “The system… I think the system is haunted…”

That ten thousand dollars had been dropped into a bottomless well. It vanished without a ripple.

Trevor suddenly leaped forward, shouting and pointing at me.

“I know what this is! You bribed the teller! You’ve got an offshore account! You’re so greedy, Sierra! You’d pull this high-tech garbage just to get more of Mom’s estate!”

Brooke joined in, her voice booming. “Everyone look! She’s colluding with the bank to steal money! The greedy viper! Stealing her own mother’s life savings!”

Other customers gathered, whispering and pointing fingers.

I was shaking with rage, tears blurring my vision.

“Fine! I don’t want the estate! Keep the money! I don’t want a single penny!”

Brooke put her hands on her hips, spitting mad. “You don’t want it? You don’t get to say that! Spit out the money you swallowed! That was Mom’s money, which makes it our money!”

Just then, my phone rang.

It was the home nurse. Her voice was strained and tearful: “Sierra! Get back here! Your mother’s crashing!”

We rushed back to the hospital.

Mom was already in the ICU, unconscious.

The doctor pulled off his mask, his face grim.

“Her condition is critical. We need emergency surgery immediately.”

“The surgery and post-op care will require an immediate deposit of at least thirty thousand dollars.”

The air went silent.

Thirty thousand dollars. It wasn’t a fortune for a family that had just liquidated millions.

All eyes landed on Marcus and Trevor, the two who had received their wire transfers.

Mom had always handled her own medical expenses. Now that the estate was divided, this was the children’s responsibility.

Brooke stepped forward, clutching her chest for dramatic effect. “Oh, it’s not that we won’t help, but you know how expensive raising a child is, right?”

“My son, Aiden, is starting kindergarten next fall. We just put down a non-refundable deposit on a starter home in the school district. If we touch that cash, we lose the house, and Aiden’s whole future is ruined!”

Marcus lowered his head, not saying a word, clearly acquiescing to his wife.

I turned to look at Trevor.

He stiffened under my gaze. “Don’t look at me, Sis.”

“Kelly and I are getting married soon. The wedding, the venue, the rehearsal dinner—it’s all paid for with that money. And Kelly’s father is sick. I have to buy him that experimental foreign drug to show my respect. Otherwise, how can I marry into the family?”

I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that nearly brought me to tears.

I pointed at Marcus.

“Marcus, look at your conscience! Mom drank herself sick doing favors just to get you that City Hall job! She worked three jobs in the freezing cold to get you your down payment and your wedding budget! Her hands were raw, like red meat!”

Then I turned to Trevor.

“Trevor, you’re a monster! You were always sick as a child, and Mom gave you everything. One time, we all had the flu, and she went to her knees begging for money from neighbors just to buy you medicine! She slipped and sliced her leg open carrying you through the rain to the hospital, and that scar is still there! You’re going to spend her life savings on your fiancée’s father’s imported meds?”

Trevor was silent for a moment.

Then he lifted his chin, his voice suddenly self-righteous. “The past is the past! Get over it! You look ahead! And besides, Mom will only last another month, tops! What’s the difference?” Pause. “Might as well get it over with.”

SMACK!

I surged forward and slapped Trevor across the face with all my strength.

“You absolute animal! How dare you say that!”

Trevor clamped his hand over his cheek, his eyes bloodshot. “You hit me?”

“You’re single, you have no financial stress. If you want to pay for the surgery, you pay for it! Don’t play the good child on my dime!”

Brooke jumped in, her tone scathing.

“Exactly, Sierra! You were so tough at the bank! You said you didn’t want the estate, so now fork over the cash! You don’t have a husband or kids, what are you saving it for? To take it to the grave?”

I squeezed my fists, my nails drawing blood from my palms.

“Fine.”

“Since neither of you will pay.”

“I’ll pay.”

But I had no money.

I slumped down in a corner of the hospital hallway, a stray dog, utterly defeated.

I thought about the last few years, the hard work I’d put into my own business. I’d opened my little restaurant, working dawn to dusk, and never asked for a penny from the family. But the economy was bad, and I was barely surviving.

That ten thousand dollars I’d deposited—the last of my working capital—had vanished along with Mom’s inheritance.

I was officially broke.

Utterly confused, I called the police. They listened to my bizarre story and agreed to open an investigation, but told me it would take time.

Time?

Mom didn’t have time.

The doctor returned, holding the consent forms.

“Ms. Ellison, the OR is ready. But the anesthetist won’t proceed until we have the deposit.”

I stared at the long line of zeros on the form, feeling suffocated.

I couldn’t just sit here. Saving her was paramount. I gritted my teeth and gripped the doctor’s sleeve.

“Please, doctor, start the surgery! I beg you!”

“I guarantee the full thirty thousand will be paid within three days! You have my word!”

The doctor looked at my pleading, tear-filled eyes, and sighed.

“Alright. I can tell you’re serious. Special circumstances. But I can only give you three days.”

I went home and immediately gathered the employees of my restaurant.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to close the restaurant.”

“Your final paychecks will be wired in three days. I promise I won’t stiff you.”

My staff was sad but understanding.

I then called the greasy developer, a guy named Mr. Kress, who had been circling my lease for months.

“Mr. Kress, I’ll transfer the restaurant to you.”

“But I have one condition: I’ll drop the price by twenty percent if you pay me in cash, right now.”

Mr. Kress was ecstatic. “Well, Sierra, why didn’t you say so sooner? No problem. I’ll have my accounting team wire the money immediately.”

A sudden memory of my account, the financial black hole, hit me.

“No! Absolutely not! No wire transfer!”

“It has to be cash! I need the cash!”

Mr. Kress looked at me like I was insane.

“Sierra, are you feeling alright? Who uses hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash? Besides, I’d have to reserve that much at the bank. It can’t be done today.”

I was insistent.

“It has to be cash! I’ll take a bigger cut on the price!”

Reluctantly, Mr. Kress agreed.

“Fine, fine, you’re crazy, but I’m in.”

He called his accountant. “Hey, Louie, go pull the cash…”

Mr. Kress’s face changed. He looked at me with a panicked expression.

“Sierra, I’m sorry. It’s too late. The accountant said they wanted to show good faith and wired the money already.”

My brain went numb.

The blood drained from my body.

My hands trembling, I opened my banking app. The refresh icon spun like my life ticking down.

The refresh completed.

Balance: 0.

I refreshed again.

Still 0.

My heart sank into a pit of despair. The phone slipped from my grasp, hitting the floor. This was Mom’s deposit! It was the last chance I had, the final straw I’d paid for with my entire life’s work!

Just then, my phone rang on the floor.

It was an unknown number.

I picked up numbly.