I backed away from them both, walked upstairs without another word.
My hands were shaking, but I wasn’t crying.
Not yet.
I just felt hollow.
I locked my door, flopped into my desk chair, and sat in silence.
Ten minutes passed.
Then 20.
I could hear them downstairs laughing.
Laughing.
I opened my banking app again.
Total damage: $8,934.67.
I emailed the bank’s fraud department.
Marked each charge as unauthorized.
Wrote out a full report, attached screenshots.
I knew there was a chance I’d get the money back, but that would take weeks, maybe months.
In the meantime, my studio launch delayed. My rent savings gutted. My trust in my family shattered.
Around midnight, I heard a soft knock at the door.
It opened before I could respond.
Mom stepped in holding a small plate of cookies like I was a child she was bribing after a tantrum.
“I baked your favorite,” she said softly. “Double chocolate chip.”
I didn’t say anything.
She set the plate down on my dresser.
“Look, I know you’re upset, but this isn’t worth tearing the family apart over.”
That’s when I snapped.
“Tearing the family apart?” I repeated. “He stole from me. You defended him. And I’m the one tearing the family apart?”
She winced.
“I’m just trying to keep the peace.”
I stood up slowly.
“Keeping the peace doesn’t mean ignoring a felony. Keeping the peace means holding people accountable. He’s almost a legal adult. If I did something like this at 17, you’d have dragged me to the police station yourself.”
She flinched like I’d slapped her.
“I can’t believe you think this is okay,” I continued. “You didn’t even make him return anything. He’s downstairs right now setting up a PS5 with my money like it’s a Christmas gift.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it.
Her voice, when it came, was defensive and small.
“He’s just been going through a rough patch.”
“We’ve all gone through rough patches, Mom. I didn’t rob my brother to cope.”
She looked down at her shoes.
“He promised he’d pay you back.”
“With what? His imaginary Twitch donations?”
She didn’t answer.
I sat back down, shaking my head.
“You’re not even going to punish him, are you?”
Silence.
“I’m filing a police report,” I said flatly.
She snapped her head up.
“What? No. No, you are not.”
“I am. This isn’t just a family issue. It’s theft.”
“You can’t do that to your own brother. He’s just a kid.”
“He’s a thief,” I said. “And if you’re not going to hold him accountable, I will.”
And then her mask cracked.
Her voice dropped to a low, venomous hiss I’d never heard before.
“If you go to the police,” she said, “you’ll regret it.”
That stopped me cold.
“Is that a threat?”
Her eyes widened slightly, as if she surprised even herself.
But then she doubled down.
“Think about it, Aiden. If you make this public, what do you think will happen to me? To our family? You think I can afford a lawyer? You think people won’t judge me for raising a criminal?”
I stared at her.
“So your concern is your reputation, not the fact that your son robbed me blind.”
Her face hardened.
“You always think you’re better than us, that you’re smarter, more mature. But you’re not. You’re just a boy with a laptop and a superiority complex.”
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was insane.
“You know what?” I said. “Get out of my room.”
“I raised you.”
“Get out.”
She slammed the door behind her.
And that was the moment.
The exact second everything changed.
Not when I saw the missing money.
Not even when Zach smirked at me from the couch.