Chapter 6 - An Account With My Name
"I don't have a bank account," I said.
"You do," Caleb answered. "Or someone made one for you."
Detective Vega explained it without pretending I was too young to understand. Dad had opened a custodial savings account using my information when I was seven. Money had entered it from the Hart Workers Relief Fund, then gone out to a company called Sable Services.
"Was I supposed to know?" I asked.
"No," she said. "You were a child. You aren't in trouble."
I kept hearing the word account as if it were a room Dad had built around me without my knowledge.
Mom covered her mouth. "He told me he was setting money aside for Emily's education."
"We can get help protecting her information," Beth, the advocate, said. "Right now, let's focus on your safety and the medical appointments. The investigators can follow the money."
Mom wanted to apologize again. I shook my head.
"Can we have one conversation where you don't say sorry for something he did?"
She almost smiled. "I'll try."
Caleb drove us to a temporary apartment arranged through the advocacy program after Mom was discharged. It was small. The sofa was covered in a blanket with little green leaves. Nobody had a key except us and the building staff.
At dinner, Mom made toast because her ribs hurt too much to stand long. I burned mine and laughed for the first time in two days. The laugh startled us both.
Then Caleb's phone rang. He listened, wrote something on the back of an envelope, and asked the caller to repeat it.
"What happened?" Mom asked.
"Investigators identified Sable Services."
"Who owns it?"
May you like
Caleb looked from Mom to me.
"Ethan's sister. Denise."
