My Sister’s Secret System Picked the Wrong Victim Chapter 09

My Sister’s Secret System Picked the Wrong Victim Chapter 09

The banks issued temporary credits within a week.

Several weeks later, the reversals were finalized.

Sixty-eight thousand dollars.

Not a cent short.

Combined with the thirty thousand I’d already sent to Grandma, I had almost one hundred

thousand dollars available.

Together with my financial aid package, it was more than enough to cover what I would need for

college.

Uncle Mike posted in the family group chat.

“We’re all pitching in for Josie’s remaining college expenses. We owe her that much after

everything.”

Right after, my phone started buzzing nonstop.

Uncle Mike sent twenty thousand.

Aunt Linda sent fifteen thousand.

Uncle Dan sent ten thousand.

Every transfer had the same note.

“A graduation gift for Josie.”

I didn’t refuse any of it.

I took all of it.

A few comments passed by.

[The relatives finally grew a conscience?]

[Double the payout. Guess that counts as decent, barely.]

Mom and Dad started trying to make things right.

Mom would pile food onto my plate at dinner, her voice careful.

“Josie, eat more.”

Dad would ask before I left the house, “What time will you be back? Want me to pick you up?”

Every time, I answered politely.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“No need, Dad.”

Not too close.

Not too cold.

Just steady, careful distance.

One night, Mom’s eyes went red.

“Josie, are you still upset with us?”

I paused for a second.

“No. I’m just not used to this yet.”

Her tears started falling right then.

She pulled me into a hug and kept saying, “I’m sorry,” over and over.

Chelsea’s sentencing came down later that summer.

Financial fraud involving a massive amount of money.

Because some of the earlier incidents happened while she was still a minor, those were handled separately.

For the graduation-dinner transfers and the attempted concealment, she accepted a plea agreement.

Every dollar had been recovered, and the authorities treated the anomalous system as an unprecedented factor in the case.

In the end, Chelsea was sentenced to three years in federal custody, followed by four supervised release, plus mandatory enrollment in a federal system-removal program.

Cousin Jake only told me what had already become public record.

The program would sever the connection between Chelsea and the system completely.

The process would be difficult, but necessary.

“Once she’s out, she’ll be a normal person,” he said.

I never asked how she was doing in there.

A last handful of comments drifted through.

[Three years plus a removal program. Chelsea’s life as she knew it is over.]

[Karma is karma. She should’ve thought about this before she left her own sister broke and/ working part-time jobs to survive.]

By late August, move-in was only days away.

My Princeton acceptance letter had arrived months earlier, but I had never shown it to anyone.

Princeton had been my first choice from the start.

My 1550 SAT score, grades, tutoring work, essays, and financial aid application had earned me a place there.

Mom and Dad offered to drive me up for move-in.

I told them it wasn’t necessary.

“I can handle it myself.”

Mom looked like she wanted to argue, but Dad caught her arm.

He looked at me and nodded.

“Alright. Be safe on the trip.”

The day before I left, I went to see Grandma.

She pressed a worn, thick envelope into my hands, stuffed with cash.

“I always believed in you, sweetheart,” she said, smiling as she smoothed my hair back.

“Go on now. Study hard.”

That was when the tears finally came.

Not out of sadness.

Not out of resentment.

It was the first time in three years, in six years, in eighteen years, that someone had believed in me from the very start, without needing proof.

That kind of warmth.

A soft round of comments followed.

[Grandma really is the only warmth in this whole story.]

[Don’t cry, girl. It only gets better from here.]

On September 1, I pulled my suitcase behind me and boarded a train heading northeast, alone.

Outside the window, the fields rushed past.

Sunlight fell warm across the back of my hand.

The comments scrolled past my vision one last time.

[Good luck, Josie Bennett.]

[This time, this life is exactly what you deserve.]