Six are from Evan.
Three are from Carol.
Two are from Rose.
One is from a number you don’t know.
One is from your boss asking if you’ll still make the morning strategy call.
And the last one makes your stomach turn to glass.
It’s an automated fraud alert from your bank: Unusual login attempt detected on your savings account. If this was not you, tap here.
You stare at it, then tap. The app opens, asks for two-factor authentication, and sends a code to your phone. Your savings balance is lower than it should be by exactly four thousand dollars.
Not all of it. Just enough that if you weren’t obsessive, if you didn’t reconcile numbers in your head the way other people hum songs, you might have missed it.
Your hands start shaking.
The transfer happened three days ago. External account. You don’t recognize the last four digits. The memo line says HOUSE REPAIR.
You live in a rental townhouse.
You call the bank immediately, voice clipped and flat. The fraud rep freezes the transfer pending review, flags the linked account, and asks whether anyone else has had access to your login credentials. You say, “My husband knew my old password,” and even speaking the sentence aloud feels like dropping into freezing water.
Then the unknown number texts again.
Need your signature by Monday or rates go up. Don’t be dramatic. It’s family.
No name. No greeting. Just a photo attachment.
You open it and nearly throw up.
