tried to cash a check for ten thousand dollars written from my account to my sister.
She had forged it. Or she had written it herself, from a joint account she believed still existed in her favor.
Mr. Henderson had put a hold on the funds because something, he said, had not felt right.
He had saved me from ten thousand dollars I would never have seen
again.
I told him he was a good man. He told me to take care of my son.
The following morning, he called me at nine forty-three.
My parents and sister were in his office, he said, his voice low. They were demanding to know what was wrong with the account. Their cards had been declined. They wanted it fixed.
I told him there was nothing wrong with my account
He said they were threatening to call the police. They were saying I had stolen their money.
I almost laughed.
