Chapter 11 - The Arrest
Jason was charged with multiple financial crimes related to unauthorized transactions, identity theft, forgery, and fraudulent loan applications.
My mother was questioned the same afternoon.
By evening, she had an attorney.
That told me everything.
She stopped calling me.
Instead, relatives started.
Aunt Susan.
Cousin Mark.
Uncle David.
Every conversation sounded almost identical.
“Jason made mistakes.”
“Your mother was only trying to help her son.”
“Do you really want your brother’s life destroyed over money?”
Finally, after the seventh call, I stopped explaining.
“Yes,” I told Uncle David.
He went silent.
Then I corrected myself.
“No. Actually, I don’t.”
“Then drop the charges.”
“I’m not destroying Jason’s life.”
I looked out the motel window.
“He did that himself.”
I blocked the entire group.
At work, something unexpected happened.
Denise called me into her office.
I assumed I was in trouble.
Instead, she closed the door.
“I heard you applied to the nurse practitioner program last year.”
I stared at her.
“How?”
“You listed me as a reference.”
I had forgotten.
“I deferred because I couldn’t afford tuition.”
Denise nodded.
“The hospital has an education assistance program.”
“I know. It doesn’t cover enough.”
“There’s also an emergency professional development grant.”
I blinked.
“I’ve never heard of that.”
“Most people haven’t.”
She slid a folder toward me.
“Apply.”
I looked at her.
“Denise—”
“Apply.”
For the first time since the night I was thrown out, someone offered help without attaching guilt to it.
I filled out the application.
Meanwhile, the bank recovered $11,200 from an account Jason had not emptied yet.
Another $6,400 was recovered when the truck dealership reversed part of his down payment after being notified of the fraud investigation.
It wasn’t everything.
But it was something.
Then Martin called.
“Laura, Patricia’s investment account has finally cleared probate review.”
I sat down.
“What happens now?”
“The court accepted the original beneficiary documentation.”
“Who’s the beneficiary?”
Martin laughed softly.
“You.”
I couldn’t speak.
“The current balance is approximately ninety-four thousand dollars.”
My eyes filled with tears.
May you like
Jason had stolen almost thirty-eight thousand dollars trying to destroy my future.
And Aunt Patricia had protected it from him years before he ever tried.
