“They’re outside again,” Scott said four days later, glancing out my apartment window. “Your mom’s crying in the car. Lauren’s pressing every buzzer in the building. Even the neighbors are starting to complain.”
I didn’t look up from my laptop.
My phone lit up with another text from Lauren.
You’re destroying this family.
“Actually,” a new voice said from the kitchen, “they’re doing a great job of that all by themselves.”
Helen, my best friend and realtor, walked over carrying four coffees.
“The repo guys picked up Lauren’s car this morning,” she said with a grin. “I might have recorded it.”
“Show me.”
I reached for her phone.
The video played. Lauren was screaming while three quiet men hooked her bright red sports car to a tow truck. Mom tried to block the truck with her body. Dad waved papers around, looking frantic.
I leaned forward.
“Those papers… they’re probably the loan documents they signed using my name without permission. I found out yesterday it’s identity theft.”
Helen let out a long whistle.
“That’s not just karma anymore. That’s a crime.”
The buzzer went off again.
Lauren’s voice came through the intercom.
“I know you’re in there. You can’t ignore us forever.”
“Watch me,” I muttered.
But Helen was already walking to the intercom.
“Listen up,” she snapped into the speaker. “Your sister isn’t coming to save you anymore. Try getting a job instead of calling her all day. You’ll need both a paycheck and a lawyer.”
Scott nearly choked on his coffee.
“Wow, Helen.”
“Harsh,” she said, turning back, “but true. By the way, did you file those identity theft charges yet?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
I pulled up the files on my laptop.
I had the documents ready. Proof they used my name to get loans I had never approved.
The buzzer started again, nonstop this time. Mom’s voice joined Lauren’s. Both of them talking over each other, begging.
“That’s it,” Helen said, grabbing her purse. “I’m calling the police. This is harassment.”
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