A week later, a call from Mr. Davis interrupted my morning coffee. « We’ve got some findings, » he said, his tone reassuring. « Can you come in today? »
In his office, Mr. Davis gestured for me to sit. « We traced the unauthorized access back to a known source—the same address used by a relative of yours. Does the name Julia mean anything to you? »
The name hit like a punch. Julia, my cousin, had been struggling financially, but I never imagined she’d resort to this.
« I’m so sorry, » Mr. Davis offered. « We can press charges, but it’s your decision. »
My mind whirled, grappling with the implications. Pressing charges meant potentially ruining Julia’s life, but not doing so felt like condoning the betrayal.
« I need time to think, » I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mr. Davis nodded, giving me space to process. « Take all the time you need. We’re here to support you. »
As I left the bank, the weight of the decision settled heavily on my shoulders. My phone buzzed again—a message from Julia this time, asking if we could talk. I hesitated, unsure of what to say or how to feel.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
