“Ma’am, step away.”
Grant rushed to my side.
“Natalie.”
His voice cracked.
I hadn’t even realized I was crying until he wiped the tears from my face.
“Are you hurt?”
“My incision—Clara—”
He checked Clara first.
She was crying, but breathing normally.
A nurse rushed in seconds later, checked my vitals, then examined Clara.
Behind her, Brielle kept yelling.
“This is a family argument!”
The man in the navy suit watched my mother.
Diane stared back at him as if she had seen a ghost.
Then he spoke her name.
“Diane Mercer.”
She said nothing.
He opened his folder.
“My name is Thomas Vale. I’m an investigator with the bank’s financial-crimes division.”
My mother appeared to stop breathing.
Grant turned to me.
“Natalie, I need you to listen to me.”
“What is happening?”
He looked devastated.
“I didn’t go home for the hospital bag.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“I got a fraud alert this morning.”
The room became quiet except for Clara’s small cries.
Grant continued.
“Someone tried to authorize a twenty-seven-thousand-dollar transfer from our business reserve account.”
I looked at Brielle.
She stared at the floor.
My mouth went dry.
“But she needed my card.”
“No,” Thomas Vale said gently. “She needed your verification.”
I stared at him.
“What verification?”
“Your bank uses a secondary identity check for unusually large transfers. They had most of the information already. Account numbers. Your Social Security number. Your mother’s maiden name.”
Slowly, I turned toward Diane.
Thomas continued.
“What they didn’t have was the rotating security code tied to the physical card.”
My hands started trembling.
The party.
The deposit.
The urgency.
They had never intended to borrow the money.
They had already tried to steal it.
“How?” I whispered.
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“That’s not all.”
Thomas laid several papers on the tray beside my bed.
“There are three credit accounts in your name that you didn’t open.”
My vision blurred.
“How much?”
He hesitated.
