Chapter 7 - WHAT FAMILY KNOWS
I spent Friday evening changing passwords.
Banking.
Email.
Retirement account.
Everything.
I replaced security questions with answers nobody could guess and removed the household email as a recovery address.
The bank confirmed that no money had left the account.
Still, I kept staring at the balance.
What frightened me was not the attempt alone.
It was how easily love had once made me careless.
Mom knew my birthday.
My first school.
The street where I learned to ride a bike.
I had never imagined those memories becoming keys.
At nine, Dad called.
“Your mother says you froze the refinance.”
“I told the lender I didn’t sign their document.”
“We could lose the house.”
“Then someone should have thought about that before using my name.”
He made a sound I had never heard from him before.
A low, broken breath.
“I didn’t know about that page.”
“Did you know about the loan?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know it would pay Derek’s debts?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Mom was packing my things?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
I leaned against my new kitchen counter.
“So which part are you asking me to forgive?”
He did not answer.
Finally, he said, “Can we meet?”
“Without Mom.”
“Yes.”
“Tomorrow.
The diner on Maple.”
He agreed.
The next morning, Dad arrived carrying an envelope.
He looked older than he had at dinner.
I wanted to reach across the table.
I kept my hands in my lap.
He slid the envelope toward me.
Inside was a copy of the refinance paperwork.
The amount requested was $112,000.
“Derek said it was temporary,” Dad whispered.
“What was?”
“The money.
He said he’d repay us after he sold something.”
“What something?”
“I don’t know.”
There was a payoff schedule clipped to the application.
Credit cards.
Personal loans.
A business account.
Then one line stopped me.
PRIVATE OBLIGATION — $41,000.
Dad rubbed his wedding ring.
“There’s something else.”
He took a folded letter from his coat.
“Derek didn’t leave Seattle because he needed more room.”
May you like
The letter was addressed to my brother.
And the first sentence began with the words FINAL DEMAND.
