Chapter 2: The Six-Thousand-Dollar Secret
“Dad, I didn't have six thousand dollars.””
I stood beside Mrs. Patterson's kitchen window, clutching her old phone while rain ticked against the glass.
On the other end of the line, Dad said nothing.
I could hear machinery rumbling in the background, followed by a door slamming somewhere near him.
“Tell me exactly what you're seeing,” he finally said.
I reopened the banking app on Mrs. Patterson's tablet.
“My balance was $1,483.18 before everything happened. The laptop charge was $1,436.82. But there's a separate transfer for six thousand dollars. I don't understand how that's possible.””
“Read me the date.””
“August eighth.””
“Four days before the laptop.””
“Dad, that's impossible. I never had that much money.””
“I know how much you earn, sweetheart.””
His words made my chest ache.
For months, I'd been counting tips beneath the yellow kitchen light while Karen complained that the diner job made the house smell like grease.
She'd never offered to help me save.
She'd never asked how much I'd earned.
But she'd watched me open my banking app at the kitchen table.
“Can you see where the six thousand went?”” Dad asked.
I tapped the transaction.
The screen showed an electronic transfer to an account ending in four digits I didn't recognize.
I read them aloud.
Dad repeated the numbers under his breath.
“Don't touch anything else,” he said.
“Take screenshots. Save the receipt. And don't confront Karen about the six thousand until I get home.””
“Why?””
“Because I need to understand what she's done.””
“Dad, she stole my money.””
“I know.””
His voice softened.
“But I need you to promise me something. Don't let her convince you that you're responsible for this.””
I swallowed.
“I promise.””
When I returned home, Karen was standing in the kitchen, slicing strawberries into a bowl.
She looked up and smiled.
It was the kind of smile adults used when they wanted children to believe nothing bad had happened.
“Where have you been?””
“Mrs. Patterson's.””
“Making calls about me?””
I didn't answer.
Karen set the knife down.
“Hannah, your father is exhausted. He's working in another state to pay the bills. The last thing he needs is you filling his head with nonsense.””
“Then you shouldn't have taken my money.””
Her smile vanished.
“Watch your tone.””
“Did you transfer six thousand dollars out of my name?””
The knife scraped against the cutting board as she pulled it toward herself.
“Where did you hear that?””
“My bank statement.””
“You must be confused.””
“I'm not.””
She wiped her hands on a dish towel and stepped toward me.
“Do you have any idea how expensive this household is? Mortgage payments. Groceries.
Utilities. Insurance. You think your little summer job pays for any of that?””
“No. I think my summer job pays for the money I saved.””
Karen's cheeks reddened.
“Your father and I have an arrangement. What belongs to this family belongs to this family.””
“Then why did you hide it?””
She stared at me.
For the first time since I'd known her, she didn't seem to have an immediate answer.
Then Madison appeared in the doorway, carrying her new laptop.
“Mom? Are you coming upstairs? I need help setting up my school account.””
Karen didn't take her eyes off me.
“Go to your room, Hannah.””
I walked away, but I heard Madison whisper, “Is she really going to tell Dad?””
Karen answered in a low voice.
“Your father won't believe her over me.””
That night, I lay awake listening to the pipes knock inside the walls.
At 11:17 p.m., my phone vibrated.
It was Dad.
*I checked my email. The screenshots came through. Do you still have access to your bank account?*
I typed back that I did.
His reply arrived almost immediately.
*Change your password. Contact the bank in the morning. Tell them you didn't authorize the transactions.*
Then another message appeared.
*Hannah, did Karen ever ask you to sign anything before I left?*
I sat up.
I remembered a folder on the kitchen table two weeks earlier. Karen had told me it contained school paperwork and insurance forms that needed my signature because Dad was away.
She'd pointed to several yellow sticky notes.
“Just sign where I've marked, honey. It's boring adult stuff.””
I'd been rushing to catch my shift.
I remembered signing three pages without reading them carefully.
My stomach twisted.
*Yes, I typed. She gave me some papers. She said they were for insurance.*
Dad called immediately.
“What papers?””
“I don't know. There were three or four pages. I thought they were school forms.””
“Did you see a bank name?””
“I don't remember.””
His breathing grew heavier.
“Listen to me. Do not sign anything else. Don't delete any messages. And if she gives you paperwork, take pictures before you hand it back.””
“Dad, what is happening?””
“I don't know yet.””
“Are you coming home?””
“Friday morning. I'll be there.””
I wanted to ask him a hundred more questions, but he ended the call after promising he'd call again.
The following afternoon, Karen took me to the grocery store.
She bought steak, fresh flowers, and a bottle of sparkling cider.
When I asked what the occasion was, she smiled without looking at me.
“Your father comes home tomorrow. We're going to have a lovely family dinner.””
“You're not worried he'll find out?””
She stopped beside the shopping cart.
“Find out what?””
“The six thousand dollars.””
Karen leaned closer, lowering her voice so the other shoppers couldn't hear.
“You have no idea what you're talking about, Hannah. And if you keep making accusations, you may discover that your father has problems of his own.””
“What does that mean?””
She straightened, dropped a package of strawberries into the cart, and walked away.
That evening, Madison came into my room without knocking.
She was holding her laptop against her chest.
“Mom says you're trying to get it taken away.””
“It's mine she bought it with.””
“I'm supposed to use it for school.””
“So was I supposed to save my money for school?””
Madison's face reddened.
“You always make everything about you.””
I looked at her, stunned.
“Madison, I worked all summer for that money.””
She shifted the laptop under one arm.
“Mom said you owed her.””
“For what?””
She opened her mouth, then closed it.
I stood.
“For what, Madison?””
She backed toward the door.
“I don't know. She said Dad would explain everything when he got home.””
Then she left, shutting the door behind her.
I sat on my bed, staring at the empty hallway.
Why would Dad need to explain anything?
And why was Karen so certain he would take her side?
At 10:42 p.m., an email notification appeared on my phone.
It was from the bank.
*Your request to dispute the unauthorized transfer has been received.*
I opened the attached transaction details.
The six-thousand-dollar transfer hadn't gone to a random account.
It had gone to an account registered in my name.
An account I had never opened.
And beneath the account information was a line that made my blood run cold.
*Authorized signer: Hannah Miller.*
My signature appeared at the bottom of the document.
Except I had never signed that document.
Someone had copied my signature onto a bank form.
May you like
And when I zoomed in on the image, I recognized the handwriting beside it.
Karen's.
