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I opened my banking app expecting to see the $14,000 I’d worked so hard to save. Instead, the number glaring back at me was $4.87.

My sister, Tessa, didn’t even glance up from the couch as I stared at my phone, numb. Fourteen thousand dollars—gone. “You’re doing fine,” she said, swirling her wine. “No kids, no mortgage. You’ve always helped.” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. Helped? They drained me. Without asking. Without remorse. My voice trembled, “Helped? You cleaned me out.” Seth shrugged like it was no big deal. Mom kept knitting. Dad didn’t look up. And in that moment, I realized I wasn’t their son or brother—I was their bank. So I picked up my bag and said…

It started with a casual glance at my phone. Just a quick check, right after the family reunion. I opened my banking app expecting to see the $14,000 I’d worked so hard to save. Instead, the number glaring back at me was $4.87.

I hit refresh. Again. Again. Same result.

My hands went cold. “Where the hell is my money?”

Seth leaned on the fridge like he owned the place, a beer in one hand, that signature smug grin on his face. “We needed it more than you,” he said, like it was some kind of punchline.