Dad’s face hardened. “Too late for what?”
“For pretending this was ever a family conversation.”
Caleb stepped forward. He looked exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw covered in rough stubble. The smug look had disappeared.
“Rebecca,” he said, softening his voice, “I screwed up.”
I nearly laughed.
“A mistake is forgetting a payment. A mistake is ordering the wrong materials. Forging my signature on a six-figure loan is a felony.”
My aunt Carol gasped dramatically like I had attacked someone.
Dad pointed angrily at the phone in my hand. “Hang that up. We don’t need attorneys.”
A calm voice came through the speaker. “Mr. Harris, this is Daniel Price, Ms. Harris’s attorney. I strongly advise you not to threaten my client or discuss the alleged fraud without legal representation.”
The porch became completely quiet.
Mom covered her mouth. “Rebecca, please. We’re still your parents.”
I looked directly at her. That was the hardest part. Not Caleb. Not Dad. Her.
“You knew,” I said quietly.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“You knew he signed my name.”
She whispered, “Your father said it would only be temporary.”
There it was.
Not innocence. Permission.
Caleb rubbed his forehead. “The bank called everything due after your fraud report. They froze the business account.”
“No,” I corrected him. “They froze it because the application was fraudulent.”
Grandma stepped forward slowly with her cane. “Becky, your brother could end up in jail.”
“He should’ve thought about that before stealing my identity.”
Dad exploded. “Enough! You think you’re better than your family because you have money?”
“No. I think I have the right to keep what I earned.”
My cousin Mark muttered under his breath, “It’s just one signature.”
I looked at him. “Then let Caleb use yours.”
He immediately fell silent.
That silence said everything.
They wanted sacrifice, but only from me.
Daniel spoke again through the phone. “Rebecca, don’t let them inside. Written notice has already been sent directing all communication through my office.”
Dad narrowed his eyes. “You’d really let your mother lose her house?”
I opened the folder in my hands and pulled out copies of wire transfers. “You used Mom’s house as collateral for Caleb’s debt. You did that. Not me.”
Mom broke down crying then, real crying this time.
Caleb stared out toward the driveway.
For the first time, I saw fear in his face. Not guilt. Fear.
He wasn’t sorry for stealing from me.
He was sorry it stopped working.
I stepped backward into the doorway.
“I’m done being the family safety net.”
Then I shut the door.
And this time, I locked it.
