My boss handed me $20,000 in cash to pay the workers. I only stepped out to buy some envelopes, and by the time I got back, my dad had lent the money to our neighbor for a house. When I confronted him, he told me I didn’t understand “neighborly obligations.” Even Mom and my brother blamed me for not hiding the money better, knowing full well that Dad had a habit of loaning cash out. Eventually, my boss fired me but didn’t call the police. He only asked me to pay the money back. To help me do that, my dad arranged a high-paying job for me. But when I got there, it turned out I’d been hired as a caretaker for an old man who assaulted me on the first day. I wanted to call the police, but my dad insisted I should “be compassionate” toward the elderly. It didn’t end there; the old man’s daughter thought I was trying to seduce her father and had people beat me to death. Then I opened my eyes—back to the day my dad had loaned our neighbor that money. “Dani, no need to come back to the office after picking up the cash. Head straight to the Highland Ridge site and distribute the wages this afternoon.” Boss Rick Harlow handed me the bank card, and at that moment, I truly felt like I’d been given a second chance. In my last life, after withdrawing the $20,000, I’d rushed home in fear of losing it. I locked the cash in my bedroom, intending to buy some envelopes to distribute it properly. But after being gone just an hour, I came home to find that my dad had lent it all to Dennis Coleman, the neighbor, to help buy a house. I was about to go ask Dennis for the money back. But my dad stopped me. “What are you doing? We’ve already lent it out. How could you ask for it back? What kind of neighbor would do that?” I was livid. “Dad, this money is from my company. You can’t just take company funds. If the boss calls the cops, I could go to jail!” Dad scoffed, “Your boss has plenty of money; what’s $20,000 to him?” Seeing he wasn’t going to listen, I stormed out, heading straight for Dennis’s door and banging on it. Before I could even ask for the money, Dad dragged me back home. Once inside, he slapped me hard across the face. “Dani Greene, I can’t believe my daughter would be so clueless about social decency. Tell your boss that I borrowed it, alright?” Furious, I snapped, “Borrowed it? How do you plan to pay it back? You have no job and no savings. Why would he lend it to you?” The second those words left my mouth, Dad lost it completely. He kicked me to the ground, fists raining down on me. “Who do you think you are, talking to your father like that?” At that moment, Mom and Lucas walked in. Seeing me getting beaten, their faces were cold, and when they found out why, Mom sneered, “You had it coming. You know your dad likes to lend money out, and you still left the cash lying around.” This ordeal ended with me confessing everything to Rick. He didn’t call the cops, just asked for the money back and wrote off the rest, but he couldn’t let me stay. After signing a note saying I’d repay him, he fired me. After that, I faced even worse because of Dad. Remembering all this felt like those punches were landing on me all over again. I asked Rick if I could pay out the wages in the morning instead of the afternoon, explaining I was nervous about carrying so much cash. He agreed. Once I had the money in hand, I rushed to Highland Ridge, only relaxing after I saw the workers pocketing their pay. When I returned home, Dad was fiddling with the lock to my bedroom. “Dad, what are you doing in my room?” Hearing my voice, he jumped, then smiled at me. “Just in time. Got any cash I can borrow?” “What for?” I asked. “Dennis is looking to buy a house, and I want to pitch in a little to help. It’s good for neighborly relations.” Dad sounded so convinced, like this was the most natural thing in the world. The whole neighborhood knew Dad was a people-pleaser. Whether they needed money or muscle, all they had to do was ask, and he’d do whatever he could to help. We never had savings because Dad would lend out any money as soon as we’d saved it up. “No, I don’t have anything. Try Lucas—he was just talking to Mom about buying a car, so he should have a little,” I told him, brushing him off. When I mentioned Lucas might have money, Dad’s eyes lit up. Of course, he didn’t actually go ask Lucas or Mom. Instead, he turned and went to his room to dig out his bank card. Dad’s always been quick to lend out cash, so back in high school, I suggested Mom open a secret savings account he didn’t know about. Otherwise, we’d never save a penny. Mom brushed me off, saying I was just a kid and didn’t understand how things worked, but she still opened that account. She’d managed to save around $40,000, meant to help Lucas with his wedding and to buy a car. In my last life, even knowing I could go to jail, they never used that money to help me out. I ended up working as a caretaker to pay off my debts, while
Lucas went ahead and bought himself a new car. After turning the whole house upside down, Dad finally found the passbook hidden in a rice container. Seeing the balance, he exploded. “That sneaky Laura, hiding all this money from me!” He stormed out with both his ID and Mom’s. I tried to stop him, “Dad, aren’t you going to ask what the money’s for?” “What for? Every cent in this house comes from me.” He left without another word, and when he returned, he had $40,000 in cash and called over Dennis from next door. Dennis seemed surprised, “This much? I only needed $20,000.” “Take it all,” Dad replied, puffing himself up like some kind of billionaire. “Use the rest for renovations.” Dennis offered to write him an IOU, but Dad waved him off. “If you give me an IOU, it’ll be like you don’t trust me.” Dennis left, delighted, and Dad stood there looking like he’d just done something amazing. I stepped in, trying one last time. “Dad, if you’re going to lend that much, you should get a note. He might not pay it back.” He shot me a glare. “If you ask for a note, you ruin the goodwill. This is how you build relationships, Dani. You’ve got a lot to learn.” Dad loved to throw around phrases like “building relationships.” Growing up poor, he’d always felt that no one in his family cared enough to help out, and that had left a mark on him. Now, if someone needed anything, he’d be there with money if he had it, or labor if he didn’t. And if he couldn’t do it alone, we all had to pitch in. And sure, he’d gained a few friendly neighbors this way—but they all knew they could take advantage without ever giving back. With this life, since I’d managed to pay the workers in time, I hadn’t been fired. But it wasn’t long before Dad landed me in more trouble. After work one day, I came home to find a stranger in our living room. Dad introduced him as Charlie Davis, a friend who owned a small factory. The IRS was coming to audit him, but his wife, who’d been the accountant, had made a mess of the books. He needed a professional to help him sort it out. One look at the paperwork, and I told him flat-out, “I can’t do this.” Dad’s face darkened, and with a forced calm, he said, “Look again. A small factory’s accounts have to be simpler than your company’s. Just help him out.” I handed the books back, “Mr. Davis, these accounts are all over the place. You should talk to the IRS and straighten things out.” The books were a disaster. From one glance, it was clear they’d been doctored. He didn’t want my help organizing; he wanted someone to smooth over the fraud.
Charlie turned pale and left, with Dad trailing after him. I went to my room to get ready for a shower. Just as I was halfway undressed, the door flew open, and Dad barged in. I barely had time to scream before he slapped me hard across the face. “Who the hell do you think you are?” “What’s the big deal about being an accountant? Just help him out like I said, and quit talking back,” Dad snarled, jabbing a finger at my face. “Do you know how hard it is to keep these relationships going? And just like that, you ruined it. I already told him you’d do it, so you better get those books sorted.” I lifted my chin, defiant. “I won’t. If someone else wants to take the risk, let them. He’s asking me to cook the books, and if it gets exposed, I’ll be the one paying for it.” “Oh, please. It’s not like they’ll catch you that easily. I think you’re just lazy.” Dad rolled up his sleeves and raised his hand to hit me again. Just then, the front door opened, and Mom and Lucas walked in. I ran to hide behind Mom, but to my shock, she stepped aside and shoved me back toward Dad. “If you’ve made him angry, you might as well take the hit and get it over with. Don’t drag me into it,” she said coldly. Since I was a kid, whenever Dad got violent, Mom and Lucas would stay far out of the way, afraid they’d get dragged into it. Their indifference hit me hard. After realizing Dad was furious because I refused to make fake entries, Lucas frowned at me, “Dani, you’re really being immature. It’s just a little doctoring of numbers, not your life on the line. If you’ve embarrassed Dad in front of his friend, you deserve what’s coming.” Mom chimed in, “Exactly. And don’t say you can’t do it. You’re an accountant—I know what you’re capable of.” Her words reminded me of something important. Dad had already retired, but Mom hadn’t, and she wanted to stay a few extra years for the benefits. Mom worked as an accountant at a government agency with great pay and benefits, and when Lucas graduated, she pulled every string she could to get him in, too. But when I graduated, she’d gone out of her way to block me from joining her office, even though I’d already been accepted. She didn’t want me around, afraid I’d somehow disrupt her career plan to delay retirement. The memory made my fists clench. I looked at Dad and forced myself to back down. “Dad, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have refused in front of your friend. I could probably do it, but I don’t have as much experience, and I’d hate to mess it up for him. But Mom—she has tons of experience. She’d be perfect for the job.” Dad turned to Mom, who shot me a death glare. “Walter, my work’s been hectic lately. This kind of thing…” she started to say. Dad cut her off. “Dani’s right. She’s inexperienced, so you’ll do it instead.” Mom opened her mouth to protest, but one look from Dad, and she swallowed her words. He not only forced her to take on the task but gave her a deadline of one night to finish it. That night, he got irritated by the light in the living room, so he made her work out there in the dark. I slept soundly, waking up refreshed the next morning while Mom was left bleary-eyed, sighing and muttering under her breath as I headed out the door. Just one glance at those books had told me this job was more than just messy; if she cooked the books, she’d be in deep trouble if they ever got caught. But at least that wasn’t my problem anymore. On the weekend, I went out looking for apartments, thinking it was time to get away from this house. After a long day, I came home and collapsed on my bed, weighing the options for which apartment would be best. As I glanced at my bookshelf, I noticed my complete collection of classic American novels was missing. It was a rare, collector’s edition, a gift left to me by my best friend who had passed away. I’d even sealed the books to preserve them. My mind went blank, and I ran into the living room. “Dad, where’s my collector’s edition?” He looked startled for a second, then recovered with a shrug. “I gave it to someone.” I narrowed my eyes. “Gave it to who?” “Who cares?” he snapped. Anger surged through me. “Who did you give it to?” “I gave it to Charlie Davis,” he said coolly. “You should be glad he liked it. Otherwise, you’d have really made an enemy of him.” “Well, let him be mad then! He’s not my father—why should I care? That set was my friend’s last gift to me, and you gave it away without a thought. Did you ever even consider how I’d feel?” With that, tears started falling. Years of pent-up frustration flooded out of me. Dad hesitated for a moment, then stood and raised his hand to hit me again. “Are you serious? Your dad’s reputation isn’t worth more than some old books? You can just buy them again. They’re not irreplaceable. You’ve been acting out way too much lately. I’m going to teach you a lesson today.” But I was done. I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and started slashing at the air in front of me. “Alright, fine! If you’re so determined to punish me, one of us isn’t walking out of here today!” Lucas grabbed me from behind, using all his strength to pry the knife from my hands. “Dani, have you lost your mind? How dare you wave a knife at Dad? You know this is just how he is! You should have hidden your things better if you didn’t want this to happen.” I looked at him, stunned. This was the same brother who’d always stood by while I was being hit, who only stepped in now to defend Dad because I’d picked up a knife. This family was rotten to the core. Lucas saw my look and frowned. “What are you looking at me like that for? This is on you. They’re just books. Stop making a big deal out of it. Dad does things like this for the good of the family, for our benefit.” I let out a bitter laugh. “You say that only because it wasn’t your stuff he gave away.” Lucas puffed up. “Even if it were mine, I wouldn’t complain.” Just then, a scream came from Mom’s bedroom. She ran out, holding her savings book in her hand, looking frantic. “My money! It’s gone!” Lucas turned to her, “What money?” Mom’s face twisted with despair. “Your car money—and your wedding fund.”
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