“Don’t play dumb.”
And then—
Jason reached into his pocket.
And pulled out my ATM card.
For a second, I didn’t understand what I was looking at.
Then everything inside me dropped.
“You took my card?”
“Relax,” he said, flicking it onto the table. “I borrowed it.”
I stepped forward, grabbing for it, but his hand came down over it before I could reach it.
“And I used it,” he added casually.
“How much?” My voice barely sounded like mine.
He shrugged.
“Everything.”
I didn’t believe him.
I couldn’t.
My hands were shaking as I pulled out my phone, opening my banking app.
And then I saw it.
Checking: $12.11
Savings: $0.43
Transaction after transaction. Withdrawals. ATMs. Transfers.
My breath caught.
Thirty-eight thousand dollars.
Gone.
“That was my graduate school money,” I whispered.
Jason stood up slowly, stepping closer, using his height like he always did when he wanted to intimidate me.
“Not anymore.”
“Give it back.”
“No.”
Dad stood too, folding his arms like this was some kind of negotiation.
“You’ve been living here for two years,” he said. “Food, utilities, space. This evens things out.”
My ears rang.
“You never asked me for rent.”
Mom smiled slightly.
“We shouldn’t have had to.”
That was the moment everything shifted.
Not when I saw the empty account.
Not when Jason admitted what he did.
But right then—
When I realized none of them felt guilty.
Not even a little.
Jason grabbed my suitcase, walked to the door, and shoved it outside. Cold air rushed in, biting against my skin.
“You can go now,” he said.
“And don’t come back.”
Behind him, my parents laughed.
Actually laughed.
What they didn’t know…
What none of them understood…
Was that the money they had just taken wasn’t simple savings.
It wasn’t money I could just “replace.”
It was protected.
Watched.
continue to the next page.
Leave a Comment