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Would she spend her nights at a strip club if that's what it took to save her mom?

Jennifer shook her head with a sigh, dismissing the thought. Right now, she wasn't going to think about it. She wasn't that desperate yet. Another, more viable suggestion was to set up a donation drive online so people could donate to the cause. While she doubted she could make $100,000 that way, it was possible she could convince some people to help out, and at this point, every dollar made a difference.

But the question still begging for an answer was how she was going to make that much, and fast enough to make sure her mom received treatment in time.

She surfed around a bit more looking for answers, and her heart became heavier with each failed lead. She navigated to the main search page and went to tap on a page about quick business ideas to make money, but instead of sending her to the article, an offensively pink and red ad came up.

"That looks like it could cause a seizure," Jennifer joked quietly, but she couldn't deny how the colors caught her attention. Or how they made her glance over the words written on the ad:

Paying for your mom's medical bills shouldn't be your burden alone. Your perfect match will want to help you as much as you want to help her. Find love and financial help all in one place!

Jennifer frowned. "That's some serious ad targeting."

She knew about how companies could use very specific data to target customers, so whoever was targeting this ad at her had to know she was looking for a way to pay for her mom's bills. But what was all that nonsense about finding love? How could that be connected at all?

Jennifer bit her lip, aware of just how scammy the ad sounded: way too good to be true. But after two hours of research and essentially limiting her options to strip clubs, the lottery, and relying on other people's generosity, she was approaching desperation.

At this point, anything that avoided the possibility of wagging her boobs and ass in front of perfect strangers sounded like a perfect solution to her.

She tapped the link, finding herself on a website for a mail order bride agency. Not what she expected in the slightest. How was becoming a mail order bride supposed to help her pay off her mother's obscene medical bills?

Still, Jennifer didn't dismiss the idea outright. She gave the website a chance to explain itself, and it did:

If you're reading this, it means our website's very special algorithm decided you are eligible to meet the love of your life. We understand this might come as a shock to you, but you've spent most of your life wishing for love, haven't you?

And yet you've never found the right person.

Now your mother is sick, and you're not sure you ever will.

Let me assure you that the right man is out there for you. He is waiting for you right now ...

... you only have to go to him.

The message on the webpage sent Jennifer's head spinning. How did this website know so much about her? She never told anyone just how badly she wished for someone to love her, more than Ron or any of her exes ever did. But for the last year, she suppressed those feelings with worry for her mother.

And she had to keep those feelings suppressed. Love wasn't a save-all, and it definitely wouldn't cure her mother of cancer or drop enough money in her lap to pay for the treatment thatwouldsave her.

Yet Jennifer couldn't outrightly dismiss the website as nonsense. She navigated to another page, where other 'successful' couples shared their stories about their mail order bride experiences. One guy even spoke about how his ex signedhim up for the service as an act of revenge for his commitment issues ... only for him to find true love.

Jennifer giggled at that one. It sounded so ridiculous, but that wasn't something someone could make up. It wasn't just his story, though, that broke down her defenses. All of them, put together, sounded so real and convincing.

And yet Jennifer still didn't see how becoming a mail order bride would solve her financial issues.

At this point, though, what did she have to lose? If she married a guy, that wouldn't stop her from working her ass off to buy those pills for her mom. If she was lucky, maybe she really would fall in love, and maybe he would help her.

That wasn't a burden she would willingly place on someone she didn't know, but she could be hopeful. Her mom's life was at stake. The least she could rely on was exactly that: hope.

Jennifer went back to the page where she first read the message inviting her to apply, but the bit about finding true love and her mom's sickness was gone, replaced by simply: :)

Below it was the button: register now!

With a deep breath, Jennifer threw her name into the hat ... and hoped for the best.

Chapter 2 – Mark

Mark leaned back in his leather chair and sipped his whiskey. The rich liquid warmed his spirit just as much as the blazing fireplace in front of him, the flames crackling in the late evening.

After a long run outside, searching for clues to a mystery that had eluded him for the better part of a decade, nothing settled his nerves like a solid drink and some time to think by the fire. For most of that same decade, Mark had taken his drinks and time to think in solitude, but now he had a friend by his side.