Chapter 4 - The Morning of the Reckoning
The fallout began at dawn. The bank manager, Mr. Henderson, was the first point of contact. By 9:00 a.m., my father was in his office, creating a scene that could be heard over the phone line. Henderson sounded flustered, his voice tight with the discomfort of witnessing a public meltdown from a man who prided himself on his social standing.
"He's quite upset, Jennifer," Henderson explained, clearly trying to mediate. "He says this is a mistake, that the accounts need to be unlocked immediately for the 'wedding preparations.'"
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"There is no mistake, Mr. Henderson," I replied, my voice steady, betraying none of the adrenaline surging through me. "Those accounts were for family support. But family shows up at a hospital when a child is dying. They don't. They are no longer authorized users. If they are disturbing the peace, please call security. And please, inform my father that any further attempts to access these funds will be met with legal action regarding the suspicious activity I’ve been documenting for the last few years."
I listened to the faint, muffled sound of my father shouting in the background—the sounds of a man realizing his puppet strings had been cut. I hung up. I went to check on Oliver, who was sleeping peacefully, his heart beating rhythmically without the interference of a parasitic family. I felt a strange, terrifying sense of freedom.
