Chapter 2: The Money He Stole
I drove home slower than I ever had before.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I was trying to understand.
My son.
My own son.
The little boy who used to hold my hand crossing the street.
The teenager who cried when his father passed away.
The man I had sacrificed everything for.
Could he really be the reason my savings were disappearing?
When I walked into the house, I found Harrison and Sloan sitting in my living room.
They weren’t arguing.
They weren’t upset.
They were laughing.
That hurt more than the missing money.
Sloan looked up.
“Oh, you’re back.””
I placed my purse on the table.
“Harrison, I need to ask you something.””
His smile faded.
“About what?””
I pulled the bank statement out.
His face changed immediately.
Just for a second.
But I saw it.
The fear.
“Why are there eighteen thousand dollars missing from my account?””
Silence filled the room.
Sloan looked away.
Harrison stood up.
“Mom, I can explain.””
I stared at him.
“Then explain.””
He rubbed his forehead.
“It’s not what you think.””
I laughed quietly.
“That’s what people say when it is exactly what I think.””
Sloan stood up.
“You’re making a huge accusation.””
I turned toward her.
“I wasn’t talking to you.””
Her eyes narrowed.
“You don’t get to treat me like a criminal.””
I looked at her.
“Interesting choice of words.””
Harrison stepped between us.
“Mom, listen. I was going to pay it back.””
My heart dropped.
“You used my money?””
He looked down.
“I needed help.””
“Help for what?””
He didn’t answer.
That was when I knew there was more.
I walked closer.
“How long?””
He stayed silent.
“How long have you been taking money from me?””
Finally, he whispered.
“Months.””
Months.
That one word felt heavier than anything else.
I sat down because my legs suddenly felt weak.
“Why?””
Harrison looked ashamed.
“Sloan had expenses.””
I looked at him in disbelief.
“Your wife’s shopping became my responsibility?””
Sloan crossed her arms.
“She makes it sound worse than it is.””
I turned toward her.
“Eighteen thousand dollars is worse than it is.””
She rolled her eyes.
“You have money.””
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
“What did you say?””
She shrugged.
“You own this house. You have savings. You weren’t struggling.””
That was when I understood.
They didn’t see me as family.
They saw me as a resource.
A place to take from.
A person who would always forgive them.
I stood up.
“Both of you need to leave.””
Harrison looked shocked.
“Mom…”
“No.””
My voice surprised even me.
“You have taken my kindness for weakness for the last time.””
Sloan laughed.
“You’re really choosing pride over your son?””
I looked at her.
“No. I’m choosing myself.””
Harrison’s expression changed.
“You can’t just throw us out.””
I walked toward the door.
“Actually, I can.””
He stared at me.
“You’re my mother.””
“And you’re my son.””
I opened the door.
“That’s why this hurts so much.””
For the first time, Harrison looked ashamed.
But Sloan grabbed her purse.
“Fine. We’ll leave.””
She walked past me.
Then she stopped.
“You’re going to regret this.””
I watched her leave.
But her words stayed with me.
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
I sat in my office going through old paperwork.
I wanted to know exactly what had happened.
That was when I noticed something strange.
A folder was missing.
My property documents.
I searched every drawer.
Nothing.
My hands began shaking.
Someone had been inside my office.
Someone who knew where I kept important papers.
The next morning, I called Harrison.
He answered after several rings.
“Mom?””
His voice sounded nervous.
“I need to ask you something.””
A pause.
“What?””
“Did you take my property documents?””
The silence lasted too long.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
“Mom… you don’t understand what Sloan found.””
I froze.
“What did she find?””
Another pause.
Then Harrison whispered:
“The reason she moved into your house wasn’t because we needed temporary help.””
I gripped the phone tighter.
“Then why?””
Before he could answer, the call suddenly ended.
I stared at the screen.
And seconds later, a message appeared from an unknown number.
May you like
There was only one sentence.
‘You need to know what your son and his wife have been planning.’
