Chapter 2: The Secret Behind the Transfer
Dad pulled his phone away before Denise could grab it.
“What was the money for?”” he asked.
She stopped moving.
The living room fell silent except for the low hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
Jordan stood frozen beside the staircase, his new phone still sealed inside the shopping bag. I could see the outline of its box through the thin paper.
Denise looked from Dad to me.
Then she forced a laugh.
“You're twisting everything. I borrowed the money. That's all.””
“You took it without permission,” Dad replied.
“I was going to repay her.””
“With what?””
“My paycheck.””
“When?””
“Marcus, stop interrogating me like I'm some stranger!””
Dad pressed the phone to his ear.
“I'll stop when I understand why my wife is transferring money out of my daughter's account.””
Denise's eyes widened.
“Your daughter,” she repeated bitterly.
“Of course. Your daughter.””
He ignored her and began explaining the unauthorized transfer to the bank representative.
I watched Denise pace between the fireplace and the sofa. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor. Every few seconds, she glanced at the staircase, as if she expected someone to appear and rescue her.
No one did.
When Dad finished the call, he told me to change my banking password and contact the bank through its official fraud department to secure the account. He also advised me to preserve the transaction records and avoid making accusations beyond what the evidence showed.
Then he looked at Denise.
“The bank is investigating. Until we understand what happened, nobody touches Jasmine's accounts.””
Denise threw her hands up.
“This is ridiculous! You're acting as if I emptied her entire savings account.””
“How much is left?”” Dad asked me.
I checked.
After the two transactions, I had less than six hundred dollars in accessible savings.
My tuition deposit alone was nearly three times that amount.
I swallowed hard.
“Five hundred and eighty-two dollars.””
Dad closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, he looked older.
“How much did you have this morning?””
“Two thousand four hundred and thirty-two.””
The arithmetic was simple.
The consequences were not.
My entire financial cushion had disappeared in less than half an hour.
Dad walked to the coffee table and sat beside my acceptance letter. He rubbed a thumb over the university seal, carefully avoiding the muddy footprint.
“I should have known something was wrong,” he murmured.
I sat beside him.
“You didn't know.””
“I should have asked why you were working so many hours. Why you were always tired. Why you stopped buying things for yourself.””
“I wanted to pay my own way.””
He looked at me.
“You shouldn't have had to protect your future from someone living in your home.””
That sentence nearly broke me.
For years, I had tried to convince myself that keeping the peace was the same thing as having a family. I had swallowed insults because Denise was my father's wife. I had cleaned up after Jordan because Dad worked long hours and deserved a quiet home when he returned.
I had made myself smaller so nobody would accuse me of causing trouble.
And now my college money was gone.
Dad placed a hand on my shoulder.
“We'll figure this out.””
Across the room, Denise scoffed.
“With what money, Marcus? You can't just pull thousands of dollars out of thin air.””
He turned toward her.
“Why are you so concerned about whether I can replace it?””
“Because you always rescue her!””
“She's my daughter.””
“And Jordan is my son!””
“Then why are you making him dependent on money you took from her?””
Denise's face twisted.
“Because he deserves something for once!””
Jordan finally spoke.
“Mom, stop.””
She spun toward him.
“Don't you start!””
“You told me the money was yours.””
My heart began pounding.
Dad slowly stood.
“What did you just say?””
Jordan looked as if he wanted to swallow the words.
Denise crossed the room and grabbed his arm.
“Jordan, go upstairs.””
“No,” Dad said.
“He stays.””
Jordan pulled free.
“You said Jasmine had been hiding money from the family. You said she owed you because she'd been living here for years.””
“I never said you could take it,” Denise snapped.
“You said the bank transfer was already handled!””
Dad's face went rigid.
“Jordan, look at me.””
Jordan reluctantly raised his eyes.
“Did your mother tell you she had permission to access Jasmine's bank account?””
He hesitated.
“No.””
“Did you know where the money came from?””
Jordan stared at the floor.
“I knew it was hers.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I had expected Denise to defend herself. I had expected Jordan to lie. But hearing him admit that he knew the money belonged to me felt worse than either.
I looked at the shopping bag.
“You knew I needed that money for school.””
Jordan's shoulders stiffened.
“You don't understand what was happening.””
“Then explain it.””
He looked at his mother.
She shook her head.
“Jordan,” I said, “you are twenty years old. You can explain why you bought a phone with money you knew wasn't yours.””
“I didn't know she'd take that much!””
“But you knew she took something.””
He didn't answer.
Dad walked toward him.
“Did you use Jasmine's banking information?””
Jordan's silence lasted only a second, but it was enough.
Dad's voice dropped.
“Did you?””
Jordan swallowed.
“Mom gave me the account details.””
Denise gasped.
“You ungrateful little—”
“Mom!”” Jordan shouted.
“You told me to help you!””
Dad lifted a hand.
“Start from the beginning. Both of you.””
Denise sank onto the sofa, her face suddenly pale.
Jordan set the shopping bag on the floor.
He explained that Denise had approached him earlier that afternoon and told him Jasmine had enough savings to contribute to household expenses. She said I had been selfish, that I was planning to leave for college and abandon the family, and that it was time I paid everyone back.
Then she showed him a photograph of my bank card.
I felt sick.
“My card was in my bedroom drawer.””
Denise looked away.
Dad's gaze sharpened.
“How did you get it?””
“I was cleaning,” she muttered.
“You were searching her room?””
“I was looking for a missing receipt!””
“Inside her bedroom drawer?””
Denise stood abruptly.
“This is a joke. I'm not going to sit here while my husband and his daughter gang up on me.””
Dad pointed toward the sofa.
“Sit down.””
For once, she obeyed.
Jordan continued, his voice growing quieter.
“Mom said she would transfer two thousand dollars. She told me to buy the phone and keep the rest for some bills.””
“What bills?”” Dad asked.
“I don't know.””
“Did you ask?””
Jordan rubbed his forehead.
“I thought it was household stuff.””
“You thought it was household stuff,” I repeated, “when you were buying a phone that cost almost two thousand dollars?””
He flinched.
“I know how it sounds.””
“It sounds like you knew exactly what you were doing.””
His face hardened.
“You've always had everything handed to you.””
I stared at him.
“My mother died when I was fourteen. I worked nights while my friends went to football games. I saved money because I knew nobody was going to pay my tuition. What exactly was handed to me?””
Jordan opened his mouth, then closed it.
Dad looked between us.
“That's enough. We are not turning this into an argument about who has suffered more. Jasmine's money was taken without permission. That's the issue.””
He asked Jordan for the phone receipt.
After a long pause, Jordan reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled slip of paper.
Dad examined it.
The purchase total was $1,799.99.
The transaction had been made using a debit card.
Not mine.
Denise's.
Dad turned the receipt over.
There was a handwritten note on the back.
Two words.
*Second account.*
“What does this mean?”” Dad asked.
Denise shot to her feet.
“Give me that!””
Dad held the receipt out of reach.
“Why was the phone purchased with your card if Jasmine's money was transferred to your account?””
Denise's breathing became shallow.
“I told you. I was going to put the money back.””
“That's not an answer.””
Jordan stared at the note.
Then he looked at his mother with growing horror.
“Mom,” he whispered.
“You said the other account was closed.””
Denise froze.
Dad slowly lowered the receipt.
“What other account?””
Jordan's eyes darted toward me.
I knew, then, that the phone was only the beginning.
There was another secret.
One big enough to make Jordan afraid of his own mother.
And when Denise finally spoke, she didn't look at Dad.
May you like
She looked straight at me.
“Jasmine,” she said, her voice trembling with anger, “you need to understand that if you keep digging, you may lose a lot more than your college money.””
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