Then she said something strange.

“Don’t worry.”

I forced a smile.

“I’m trying.”

She nodded.

“I handled it.”

I almost laughed.

Not because she was being silly.

Because I thought she was trying to comfort me.

I reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She looked like she wanted to say more.

But she stayed quiet.

The next week was one of the hardest of my life.

The bank launched a formal fraud investigation.

The Denver police opened a case.

I picked up extra shifts at work.

I barely slept.

Every day felt heavier than the one before.

Then, ten days after Trent disappeared, my phone rang.

His name flashed across the screen.

I answered immediately.

Before I could even speak, he started yelling.

“CLAIRE!”

I nearly pulled the phone away from my ear.

“What?”

“You turned me in!”

His voice was furious.

Desperate.

Panicked.

“I did what?”

“The investigator said you submitted evidence!”

My heart skipped a beat.

Evidence?

“What evidence?”

There was dead silence.

Then Trent swore.

“My accounts are frozen!”

I sat upright.

“What are you talking about?”

“They froze everything!”

His breathing sounded ragged.

“The transfers. The accounts. Everything.”

For a moment, I didn’t understand.

Then he continued.

“They have screenshots!”

I froze.

Screenshots.

The line went dead.

He hung up.

I stared at my phone.

Slowly, I turned toward Maya, who was sitting on the living room couch doing homework.

A memory surfaced.

Don’t worry. I handled it.

My pulse quickened.

“Maya?”

She looked up.

“Yeah?”

“What did you mean when you said you handled it?”

Her pencil stopped moving.

“Oh.”

That single word told me everything.

She slowly set the pencil down.

“I guess you should know.”

I sat beside her.

“What happened?”

Maya took a deep breath.

“A few weeks before Uncle Trent left, I heard him and Chloe talking.”

My stomach tightened.

“What did they say?”

“They thought nobody could hear them.”

She looked down.

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