“Borrowed,” he replied without any concern, and then added with a careless shrug, “And I emptied the account.”
I lunged toward the table to grab it, but he moved faster and pressed his hand down over the card, blocking me completely.
“Relax,” he said, almost amused, “It is family money anyway.”
“No, it is not,” I said, my voice shaking with anger and disbelief.
My mother laughed softly as if I was overreacting to something small and unimportant.
“It was a smart decision,” she said, sounding proud, “You have been hoarding money while living under this roof for too long.”
The room suddenly felt colder than the night outside, and I could feel something inside me starting to crack.
“How much did you take?” I asked, forcing the words out.
Tyler shrugged lazily, completely unconcerned about the answer.
“Everything,” he said.
With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone, opened my banking app, and watched as the numbers confirmed exactly what he had said.
My savings account showed less than a dollar remaining, and my checking account barely had enough for a single meal.
The transaction history revealed multiple withdrawals from different ATMs across town, followed by a large wire transfer that made my vision blur.
“That was my money for graduate school,” I whispered, barely able to process what I was seeing.
Tyler stood up, towering over me with confidence, fully aware of the power he believed he had in that moment.
“Not anymore,” he said coldly.
“Give it back,” I demanded, though my voice lacked the strength I wished it had.
“No,” he replied simply.
My father stood as well, folding his arms as if preparing to justify everything that had just happened.
“You have been staying here for almost two years,” he said, speaking slowly like he was explaining something obvious, “Bills, food, utilities, and your mother and I decided this evens things out.”
“Evens things out?” I repeated, my voice breaking as disbelief turned into anger.
“You never asked me for rent,” I said, looking directly at him.
My mother gave a small shrug, as if that detail did not matter at all.
“We should not have had to,” she said calmly.
I looked at each of them carefully, searching for even a hint of guilt or hesitation, but I found nothing except relief.
Tyler grabbed my suitcase, walked to the door, and shoved it outside onto the porch as cold March air rushed into the house.