Instead, the representative confirmed something that made my entire body tense up, because the transactions were not random or accidental.

“They are scheduled transfers,” the agent said calmly. “They are set to send one thousand three hundred dollars each month to an account under Natalie Foster.”

I remember standing there in silence, feeling like the air around me had become heavier, forcing me to face a truth I could no longer ignore.

I walked into the kitchen trying to keep my voice steady, even though my thoughts were racing and my chest felt tight with anger.

Natalie was scrolling through her phone as if nothing in the world concerned her, and when I called her name, she barely reacted.

“Why are you taking one thousand three hundred dollars from my salary every month,” I asked, keeping my tone controlled.

At first, she did not even look up, as if the question was too insignificant to deserve her attention.

When she finally responded, her voice was cold and distant.

“That is your contribution,” she said simply, as if that single word justified everything she had been doing.

I felt something shift inside me as I tried to reason with her calmly.