I lay under the quilt, pretending to sleep, heart hammering. Every whisper felt like a knife sliding through the walls.

Ethan repeated the numbers of my bank account, each syllable slicing deeper into disbelief. Brittany chuckled quietly, as if this were a game.

I let them continue, silent and still, knowing the true measure of control was patience.

Then less than an hour later, the unraveling began. At the bank, the teller refused the transfer. My money was untouchable. They had been outsmarted without even realizing it-