“—it’s actually much worse than it seems,” he unfortunately continues. Apparently, not only did the company fail to pay the rent for multiple retail locations for the past few months, but production had to come to a complete halt due to the nature of the investigation, causing the loss of ungodly amounts of money.
This can’t be happening. I keep waiting for a camera crew to appear from a hidden room, because this has to be a joke, right? In the silence that follows Mr.Ahn’s explanation, however, it becomes clear that no one is filming us and this isn’t a joke. I make the mistake of glancing down at the phone in my hand. The notifications come in rapid-fire succession. I reflexively click on them.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” I mutter endlessly as I scroll through my social media feeds. I’ve been dropped from all the events I had booked for the summer. “I’m…” I gasp.“Canceled?”The tears come out at once. There go my summer plans to party my way to independence. Just like that. I’ve already called Kiki a billion times but got sent straight to voicemail, which is bad enough. But to find out via social media what she should have told me herself is a swift punch to the gut.
After staring at me open-mouthed for a long and drawn-out moment, Mom, Dad, and Gavin turn their attention back to Mr.Ahn.
“How could we be so severely in debt? How did it happen so quickly?” Mom asks Mr.Ahn. “Is it because of that no-good George? Please tell me we didn’t invest in his scheme.”
Mr.Ahn clears his throat. “It’s unclear if George Bronstein’s investment fraud charges are linked to you. What we do know is that you signed a significant number of lease agreements at a low, post-pandemic rate. But each clause indicated the subsequent, not to mention substantial, increase in rent per year, and the company justhasn’t been able to keep up with the costs to uphold your end of the lease agreements.”
Mom spins around to face Dad. “I warned you about this.” She tuts. “I told you that we needed to close the international storefronts, focus on the US market only, and shift our goals to e-commerce.”
Dad looks as utterly taken aback by Mom’s directness as Gavin and I are. As the epitome of a trophy wife, Mom is often seen—in head-to-toe couture—but not heard. Gavin and I glance at each other, then back at Mom.
“What?” she says in response to our blank expressions.
“I didn’t know you knew so much about the business,” I say.
Mom sighs loudly, as if to sayduh. “Why wouldn’t I? I’ve been at the company since the beginning. Where did you think I was all those years when you were at school?”
“Charity events and fundraisers?” Gavin says, guessing at the same time that I say, “Ladies’ lunches and pickleball?”
Disappointment washes over her face, but I can’t tell if it’s at us or herself. It’s a stark contrast to the unflappable smile she normally sports. Now the smile is gone and, I take it, so is the fakeness.
“What can we do?” Mom asks, trudging ahead.
Mr.Ahn blinks a couple times before he says, “Well, nothing.”
“What?” Gavin asks what we’re all thinking. Surely we’ve heard him wrong.
“At this point we have to let the investigation run its course. With the IRS it could take anywhere between several weeks and months, depending on how far back the investigation needs to go.”
“Months?” I flail. “Did you see what it’s like out there? I can’t live like this for another day!”
“For once, Elena is right,” Gavin concedes. “The camera crews are camped outside of our gate. I rode in Sonya’s trunk to get here. Ican’t live like this for the next day, let alone months.”
“Then maybe it’s a good thing the house is being repossessed,” Mr.Ahn says, somehow cavalierly.
“Excuse me?” Mom shoots up. “Our home?”
This gets Dad to finally say something. “Surely they won’t do that. Couldn’t we appeal for some type of leniency—”
“Thisislenient. They’re giving you a few days to get your affairs in order,” Mr.Ahn says matter-of-factly, as if he’s explaining a math equation or reciting the definition of a vocab word. Instead of resenting him for his nonchalance, I find myself envying him. I’d give anything to trade places with Mr.Ahn, who has the luxury of being on the other end of this conversation.
“The only money they aren’t freezing right now is the separate account Mrs.Ok made in Elena’s name,” Mr.Ahn says.
The three of us crane our necks to look at Mom, surprised.
“She can’t have her own bank account. She’s only seventeen,” Gavin blurts. He’s not wrong. I distinctly remember opening the joint account with Mom.
“Gloria?” Even Dad must not know about my account since he’s asking her for an explanation.
“What?” Mom holds out her hands in annoyance. “Because of who we are—” She winces. “Or were, I should say. The bank allowed Elena to have an independent bank account at sixteen. So I took myself off as co-owner when she started making money from her catchphrase and paid appearances.” She sighs. “I only thought it was fair, since she earned it.”
My jaw hangs open. Had I known I had full access to my money all along, I would have moved out sooner.
“Yes, the IRS felt that this money earned was unrelated to the corporate sales of It’s Ok!, and as such, it falls outside of the scope oftheir investigation,” Mr.Ahn goes on to explain. “More importantly, it should be enough to keep you afloat for now.”
