Back home, I sat at the kitchen table, the envelope unopened in front of me. I hesitated, unsure if I was ready to face what might be inside. My phone buzzed, a reminder for the weekly call with my parent. With a deep breath, I dialed the number, listening to the familiar ring before their voice came through, warm and comforting.
« Hi, Mom, » I said, my voice betraying none of the turmoil inside me. We chatted about the usual things—her garden, the weather, the new book she was reading. But as the conversation went on, my mind kept drifting back to that signature.
« Mom, I visited the bank today, » I finally said, my tone casual. « There were a few transactions I wanted to ask you about. »
There was a pause on the line, a subtle shift that made my heart race. « Oh, did you? » she replied, her voice steady. « What kind of transactions? »
« A couple of large withdrawals, » I said, glancing at the statement again. « One for $10,000 last week. »
« Oh, that was for some work around the house. Your cousin is helping me manage things, » she explained, her words calm but the explanation too neat, too rehearsed.
I nodded, though she couldn’t see me, and forced a smile into my voice. « I see. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. »
« Everything is fine, » she assured, but the knot in my stomach only tightened.
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