Chapter 4 - My Sister’s Version
Rachel stood between two officers with mascara carefully smudged beneath her eyes.
“There she is,” she said when I stepped out.
“That’s my sister.”
One officer approached me.
“Ma’am, we received a report of theft and an altercation.”
“What theft?”
“A tablet, private financial documents, and unauthorized access to an account.”
For a second, I couldn’t speak.
Rachel had called the police first.
Of course she had.
My mother stood behind her, arms crossed, looking disappointed in me.
The expression was so familiar that my body almost responded before my mind did.
Apologize.
Explain gently.
Make this easier for everyone.
Then Emma’s hand slid into mine.
I straightened.
“The tablet belongs to my daughter.”
Rachel laughed through her tears.
“She doesn’t understand what she recorded.”
“You said it was edited,” Daniel said.
Rachel looked at him.
“What?”
“A minute ago. You said the video was edited. Now you’re saying Emma recorded private information.”
The officer turned toward him.
“And you are?”
“The person whose company appears to be missing the money discussed in that video.”
The room went quiet.
Daniel explained the payments.
I explained the tablet.
The officer asked the DJ to preserve the file and spoke with the venue manager.
Nobody was arrested in the ballroom.
There was no dramatic moment when handcuffs solved everything.
There were questions.
Names.
Phone numbers.
A request for us to make the original recording available.
Rachel watched each conversation with narrowing eyes.
When an officer asked whether she had documents supporting her account, she said they were at home.
When he asked whether she wanted to formally accuse an eight-year-old of stealing her own tablet, she stopped crying.
“I want this handled appropriately.”
“So do I,” I said.
Mom moved close enough that only I could hear her.
“You’ve humiliated this family.”
I looked past her at the towering roses.
The champagne.
The guests pretending not to listen.
“No,” I said.
“You just lost control of who saw it.”
Her face changed.
Daniel told the manager the ceremony would not take place.
Rachel made a small, wounded sound.
“Over a video?”
He looked at her for a long time.
“Over what you said in it.”
I took Emma toward the exit.
At the coat check, my phone vibrated.
An email notification.
Then another.
Then six more.
Password reset requests.
An unfamiliar business account.
A bank I had never used.
May you like
Someone had started trying to change the account tied to my name.
While we were still inside the wedding venue.
