Chapter 18 - Thirty-One Thousand Below Zero
The second account was a $35,000 line of credit.
Current balance: $31,087.
The linked phone belonged to Melanie.
The linked email was the fake Aaron address.
The transactions told the story.
Bridal boutique.
Photographer.
Furniture.
Cosmetic clinic.
Cash withdrawals.
Melanie had been building a wedding and a lifestyle on my identity.
Then she called.
She was crying.
“Aaron, please.”
“I’m listening.”
“I made mistakes.”
“You committed fraud.”
“I was going to pay it back.”
“With what?”
Silence.
Then she said, “I thought you had money.”
There it was.
The belief under everything.
Not that I owed them.
That I could absorb anything they did.
“I have a job,” I said. “I’m not a bank.”
“If they charge me, I could lose my job.”
“You should have thought about that before signing my name.”
“Mom said you’d never do this.”
Of course she had.
Their whole system depended on my guilt being stronger than my anger.
Then Melanie whispered, “You still don’t know why we kept you out on Christmas.”
I went still.
“What?”
“Mom was scared you’d see a folder.”
“What folder?”
“It was in the hall closet.”
“What was in it?”
“Aaron…”
“What?”
May you like
She lowered her voice.
“Everything about you.”
