I hesitated. “Just…someone from the team.”
Sam turned her head toward me, one eyebrow arching. “Just someonewho drives that type of car and walks you to the door with that swagger?”
“He didn’t walk me to the door.”
“But he could have. The vibe was there.”
I groaned. “It wasn’t a vibe. It was a ride with four wheels.”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me, but don’t pretend it was nothing.”
I didn’t answer that.
After lunch, Sam headed to the university—even on a Sunday—to finish a research project due before graduation, which she insisted didn’t count as procrastination.
For the first time since Thursday, I was at home for more than a few hours of sleep. I’d been wallowing for three days, but the financial mess was still sitting here, making itself comfortable.
I put the last dish away and stared at the clean counter as if it might offer answers. It didn’t. So I dried my hands and made the decision. I needed to talk to them, clearly and calmly.
“Mom?” I called up the stairs.
She came down slowly, already reading the room before I said anything. I sat on the edge of the couch across from Dad, and she sat beside him, both of them tired, faces drawn. They’d aged ten years since I last saw them at Christmas.
“I want to understand what really happened,” I said, voice steady.
Dad cleared his throat. “We found an investment opportunity that promised to double our retirement a few years ago.”
I nodded. “From those fancy seminars in Florida you said you guys were attending?”
“They were fancy…or seemed that way,” Dad said. “They showed us charts, projected big returns. It all looked solid, professional. They even had clients who were lawyers at the meetings.”
His mouth twisted, the way it did when something bitter hit. “You know how sometimes you come across something that feels like a big break and you don’t want to say anything yet ’cause you’re hoping it’ll pan out? That’s what it felt like. We thought we’d found the golden ticket, so we kept it quiet, waiting for it to prove itself.” He let out a rough breath. “But it never did.”
Mom sniffled. “How could we have known? We sat in rooms where people clapped and nodded. It was all scripted, and we thought it was smart.” Her voice cracked. She shook her head, chasing away the truth she didn’t want to face.
“And you put”—my voice caught—“all of it in there?”
Dad’s eyes dropped. “They taught us that if we went in big, the payoff would be bigger, which is true in general. So, when it collapsed, it all went.”
The weight of it hit me hard. Anger, shame, that sickening sense of betrayal, all crashed down on me. How easily they’d been pulled in was the worst of those feelings.
“So...there’s no chance of getting anything back?” I asked, my voice sounding distant.
Dad exhaled. “By the time we called Vince—”
“Vince?” My eyebrows shot up.
“He’s a financial guy and knows people in that world,” Mom said, almost defensively.
“But it was already too late,” Dad continued. “He said the legal fight for a Ponzi scheme is long, expensive, and the odds are slim.”
Mom gave a broken laugh. “There’s no money for a war chest in court anyway.”
I stared at them for a long beat, my throat tight.
“I understand wanting to surprise everyone else with this potential big monetary break, but keeping this from Sam and me?” The words came out heavy. “I wouldn’t have known how to fix it. I’m no financial expert, but I could’ve picked up that something was wrong.”
Mom looked away.
