“I’m sorry,” the woman said softly. “These are for family.”
Ethan blinked behind his glasses.
“I am family,” he said quietly.
Megan appeared beside us, laughing loudly.
“Oh, the hoodies are just for the older kids,” she said.
Around us the cousins were already pulling on identical hooded sweatshirts.
My mother passed by and whispered, “Don’t cause a scene. This is Chloe’s night.”
Calmly, I led Ethan to a table at the back labeled Plus One. Someone had drawn a sad face on the place card.
I took a napkin and wrote his name on it in large letters.
ETHAN.
Later he leaned toward me.
“Mom… can we go home?”
“Soon,” I told him.
Instead of leaving, I stepped into the hallway and called the hospital.
I paid the deposit again using a credit card Megan had never seen.
I locked Ethan’s medical file so no one but me could access it.
Then I called my accountant.
Within an hour the Family Fund was closed. Megan was removed from my credit cards. My parents’ mortgage payments were canceled. Every account they used was frozen.
On the first of the next month, my father arrived furious at my front door.
“The bank rejected the mortgage!” he shouted. “They’re threatening foreclosure!”