And the best part, it was all perfectly legal. I spent 2 weeks in the Maldes diving, reading, sleeping 12 hours a night. When I came back, I found a new condo, bigger, better view, different building across town. I also found new clients. Word had apparently spread about the forensic accountant who’d executed a perfect revenge against his own family without breaking a single law.
Three companies reached out wanting to hire me. One specifically said, “If you can plan that well against people who think they know you, imagine what you can do against people trying to steal from us. My business tripled. I changed my number, started fresh.” 6 months later, I got a letter handd delivered to my office by a nervousl looking courier who wouldn’t say who sent it.
inside a single page handwritten in my sister’s careful script. Marcus, mom says we’re not supposed to contact you. Dad says you’re unforgivable. Kyle says you’re a sociopath, but I need you to knowsomething. We were evicted from Kyle’s mom’s basement 3 months ago. The boys and I are staying at a women’s shelter. Kyle left.
He said he couldn’t handle the stress of being poor. Mom and dad won’t help. They say they can’t afford it. They’re too embarrassed about what happened. Everyone in their church found out. Someone posted the video of us getting thrown out on Facebook. It went viral in our community. Mom had to quit her book club. Dad’s old law firm partners saw it.
They stopped referring clients to him. I’ve lost all my friends. They think I’m a scammer. The boys ask about you. They don’t understand why Uncle Mark doesn’t visit anymore. I’m not asking for money. I know I don’t deserve it. I just wanted you to know that I finally understand what we tried to take from you. Not just the condo, your safety, your peace, your ability to trust family.
You were right to do what you did. I’m sorry, Emma. I read it three times, folded it carefully, put it in a drawer, and I didn’t respond. Not because I’m cruel, but because some lessons need to stick. The boys, my nephews, I set up college funds for them. Anonymous trust, untouchable by their parents. When they turn 18, they’ll find out.
But Emma, my parents, Kyle, they made their choices. They can live with the consequences. I’m 33 now, partner at my firm, dating someone who thinks my healthy boundaries are attractive, not paranoid. My new condo has a door man, security cameras, and a door that only I have the key to. Every Christmas, I send my parents a card. It says the same thing every year.
Hope you’re well. Happy holidays. I never sign it. They know who it’s from. And every year I smile when I mail it because they tried to take my home. Instead, I gave them the one gift they’ll never forget. The truth about who they really are. Recorded, witnessed, permanent. 78 missed calls. I should have answered just to hear the panic in their voices.
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