Chapter 4
Three days later, Detective Harris asked me to come to the station.
When I arrived, he had a folder on his desk and a serious expression on his face.
“We've made progress,” he said.
I sat down slowly.
“Did you identify the person who used my card?”
“We're still completing the evidentiary review. However, the bank's records and the available camera footage are consistent with your account of the unauthorized withdrawals.”
I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
He explained that investigators were reviewing the transactions individually and comparing the times, locations, and available images. He also wanted copies of Darius's messages.
I handed them over.
“There's something else,” I said. “Someone tried to change my account contact information before the withdrawals.”
He nodded.
“The bank has provided records related to that attempt. We're examining those too.”
I thought of my father's warning.
Don't accuse me of things you can't prove.
“Detective, I think my father knows more than he's admitting.”
“What makes you think that?”
I explained the conversation with my mother and her sudden refusal to discuss the card.
He listened carefully.
“Your suspicion is important, but we need evidence before drawing conclusions. If you have any additional messages or documents, bring them to us.”
I promised I would.
When I left the station, my phone showed four missed calls from my father.
I ignored them until he sent a message.
YOUR MOTHER IS SICK WITH WORRY. COME HOME AND FIX THIS.
I almost threw my phone across the parking lot.
Instead, I typed a reply.
I DIDN'T STEAL MY MONEY. I WILL NOT TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR WHAT DARIUS DID.
My father called immediately.
I answered.
“You've embarrassed this family enough,” he said.
“Did you know Darius had my bank card?”
“That's irrelevant.”
“It is the most relevant question I've asked you.”
He lowered his voice.
“You don't understand the position we're in.”
“What position?”
He didn't answer.
I felt a chill move through me.
“Dad, what did you do?”
“Watch your mouth.”
“Did you use my information?”
He ended the call.
I stood beside my car, unable to move.
For years, my father had made me feel guilty whenever I questioned him. He'd remind me of the sacrifices he'd made raising me, then use those sacrifices as a reason I owed him obedience.
But he had never spoken to me like that when he needed something from me.
He had spoken like a man who was afraid.
That evening, I visited my mother at a grocery store near her workplace. I had called ahead, but she looked startled when she saw me.
“Nia, you shouldn't be here.”
“I need the truth.”
She glanced toward the entrance.
“Your father will be furious if he finds out.”
“I'm tired of being afraid of his anger.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
I took her hand.
“Did Dad know Darius took my card?”
She nodded faintly.
My chest tightened.
“How?”
“He was there when Darius found your purse.”
“When?”
“The night before you left.”
I pulled my hand away.
“You watched them plan this?”
“No! I didn't know what they were going to do with it.”
“But you knew they had it.”
She covered her mouth.
I wanted to scream. Instead, I forced myself to ask the question that mattered most.
“Why did Dad say we were in a difficult position?”
She looked toward the parking lot.
“Darius owes people money. Your father tried helping him. They were afraid someone would come looking for the money.”
“How much?”
“I don't know exactly.”
“Did they take my savings to pay his debts?”
My mother started crying harder.
“I think so.”
The words hit me like a physical blow.
My money hadn't been taken because my brother wanted a few expensive things.
My savings might have been used to rescue him from a situation I knew nothing about.
I stepped away from her.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father said everything would be fixed before you noticed.”
I stared at her.
“And when I noticed?”
She lowered her head.
“He said you'd understand eventually.”
I felt something inside me turn cold.
My family hadn't merely taken my money.
They had counted on my love to make me accept it.
I walked away without another word.
That night, I sent Detective Harris a detailed account of my mother's statements. I included the dates, the messages, and my father's calls.
May you like
Then I changed the passwords on every account I could remember.
I was done waiting for my family to become honest.
