PART6

“I wish we had taught her better.”

I looked at her.

“Mom, you didn’t teach her to lie to people.”

She lowered her head.

“No. But maybe we made it too easy for her.”

That sentence stayed with me.

Because it was true.

Belle had always been the child everyone worried about.

When she failed a test, we celebrated the next good grade.

When she lost a job, we helped her find another.

When she made a mistake, Dad told her that successful people made mistakes too.

But when I succeeded, nobody worried.

They simply expected me to keep succeeding.

I had been the dependable daughter for so long that nobody noticed how much I was carrying.

Dad looked at me.

“I’m proud of you, Rion.”

I smiled faintly.

“Thank you.”

He shook his head.

“No, I mean it. You handled something difficult without becoming cruel. You helped your sister when she needed help. And when you realized something was wrong, you finally stood up for yourself.”

I looked down at my hands.

“I’m still trying to figure out how to do that.”

Dad reached across the table.

“You don’t have to figure it out alone anymore.”

I finally cried.

Not because of Belle.

Because I had spent so long believing I had to be strong for everybody that I had forgotten what it felt like to have someone be strong for me.

Three days after Christmas, Belle called again.

This time, I answered.

“Hello?”

“Rion.”

Her voice sounded different.

Quieter.

“Hi.”

“Can we meet?”

I hesitated.

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Everything.”

I looked out the window.

“Okay. We can meet for coffee.”

She suggested a small café near her apartment.

I agreed to meet her the following afternoon.

Belle was already sitting by the window when I arrived.

She wore an old gray sweater and had her hair tied back.

For once, she didn’t look like the woman who always needed everyone to believe she was successful.

She looked tired.

There were dark circles beneath her eyes.

When she saw me, she stood up.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

We sat down.

Neither of us spoke immediately.

Finally, she said, “I haven’t slept properly since Christmas.”

I stirred my coffee.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She looked at me.

“I know you probably think I deserve it.”

“I don’t think that.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I think you need to face what happened. That’s different.”

She nodded slowly.

Then she reached into her handbag and took out a folded piece of paper.

“I wrote something.”

She placed it between us.

I opened it.

It was a list of the people she had borrowed money from.

My name was at the top.

Then Aunt Tamson.

My uncle.

Our cousin.

And several other names.

Beside each name was an amount.

At the bottom, she had written the total.

$67,400.

I stared at the number.

“Is this everything?”

She nodded.

“As far as I know.”

I looked up.

“Belle, I need you to be completely honest. Are there other loans?”

She looked down.

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Two credit cards and one personal loan.”

“How much?”

She swallowed.

“About thirty-one thousand.”

I sat back.

So, altogether, she had accumulated nearly one hundred thousand dollars in debt.

I felt sick.

“How did it get this far?”

She started crying.

“I don’t know.”

I shook my head gently.

“You do know. You just haven’t wanted to say it.”

She wiped her face.

“I wanted to be successful. I wanted to be the daughter Dad was proud of. I wanted everyone to think I had everything together.”

I looked at her.

“You think that’s what I wanted?”

She frowned.

“What?”

“You think I never wanted Dad to be proud of me? You think I never wanted Mom to brag about me the way she bragged about you?”

Belle didn’t answer.

“I worked hard too. I paid my own bills. I saved money. I bought things only when I could afford them. I built a life quietly, and every time you needed something, I gave up a little more of it.”

My voice trembled.

“I wasn’t asking you to become unsuccessful, Belle. I was asking you to stop pretending you were successful at my expense.”

She lowered her head.

“I know.”

“No. I don’t think you do.”

I took a breath.

“For three years, I was afraid to open my banking app because I knew there might be another request from you. I stopped buying things I needed. I worried about my own future. And every time I tried to say no, you made me feel like I was abandoning you.”

She covered her face.

“I am sorry.”

I looked at her for a long time.

Then I said, “What are you going to do now?”

She took a breath.

“I spoke to a financial counselor yesterday.”

That surprised me.

“Really?”

“Yes. Dad helped me find someone.”

“What did they say?”

“They said I need to stop trading completely. I need to close the accounts, stop borrowing, and make a repayment plan.”

“Are you going to?”

She nodded.

“I have to.”

I watched her carefully.

Then she said something that I wasn’t expecting.

“I also need to tell you something about the loan application.”

My stomach tightened.

“What?”

She looked directly at me.

“I did put your name down. I thought the lender would accept your income as additional security. I copied your signature from an old document.”

I felt my fingers tighten around the coffee cup.

“You copied my signature?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

I looked at her.

“Belle, that’s serious.”

“I know.”

“Did you tell the lender that?”

She hesitated.

Then nodded.

“I contacted them yesterday. I told them you hadn’t agreed to guarantee anything.”

I stared at her.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“Because I was afraid you’d hate me.”

I took a slow breath.

“I don’t want to hate you. But I also won’t protect you from the consequences of something you did.”

She nodded.

For once, she didn’t argue.

Over the following weeks, the family began dealing with the damage.

Dad worked with his financial institution to secure his retirement funds and review every transaction.

Mom made it clear that Belle would no longer have access to their accounts.

Aunt Tamson and the others agreed to document what they were owed.

I filed my own dispute with the lender and took steps to protect my financial information.

Belle had to face the consequences of the loan application and the unauthorized use of my signature. The lender reviewed the matter, and she was told to cooperate fully with the investigation.

It wasn’t easy.

There were difficult conversations, uncomfortable questions, and days when Belle became angry because she felt everyone was treating her like a criminal.

But this time, nobody rescued her.

She found a financial counselor.

She sold her expensive car and replaced it with a used one.

She moved into a smaller apartment.

She canceled subscriptions, stopped unnecessary shopping, and took on additional work.

Her lifestyle changed almost overnight.

And for the first time in years, she had to live according to what she actually earned.

I didn’t pay her rent.

I didn’t cover her credit cards.

I didn’t transfer money when she complained that her budget was tight.

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART7…