And everything became clear.
Bills. Debt notices. Final warnings.
“They were in serious trouble,” I said quietly.
At the back of the folder was a handwritten note—an account number, and a message:
Don’t touch anything else.
The next morning, I went to the bank.
When I gave them the account details, the woman frowned.
“Ma’am… this account is still active.”
My heart dropped.
That meant someone was still using it.
When I got home, the kids were waiting.
“The account… it’s still active,” I told them.
“I knew it,” Grace said. “They’re alive.”
Aaron shook his head, struggling. “There has to be another explanation.”
But there wasn’t.
The truth slowly settled over all of us.
“They left us,” Grace said, her voice hard.
I took a breath.
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