The Phone Call That Told Me Everything
My phone rang at 7:03 PM.
It was my father.
“Rachel,” he said. No hello. “We received a letter. From your bank.”
I waited before answering. I needed my voice steady.
“I assumed you would,” I said.
He demanded I unlock the card.
Said my mother had been humiliated at the grocery store.
Said Olivia “got a little excited” in Hawaii.
$95,000 wasn’t excitement.
It was theft.
“It’s family money,” he shouted. “We raised you!”
“I paid for my college,” I replied. “You paid for Olivia’s car.”
Silence.
Then the threat:
“Fix this—or you won’t have a family to come home to.”
“I think,” I said quietly, “I’m already there.”
I hung up.
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