For a moment, I could not breathe because I instantly understood something had gone terribly wrong.
“You stole my card?” I demanded, stepping forward.
“Borrowed,” he replied without any concern, and then added with a careless shrug, “And I emptied the account.”
I lunged toward the table to grab it, but he moved faster and pressed his hand down over the card, blocking me completely.
“Relax,” he said, almost amused, “It is family money anyway.”
“No, it is not,” I said, my voice shaking with anger and disbelief.
My mother laughed softly as if I was overreacting to something small and unimportant.
“It was a smart decision,” she said, sounding proud, “You have been hoarding money while living under this roof for too long.”
The room suddenly felt colder than the night outside, and I could feel something inside me starting to crack.
“How much did you take?” I asked, forcing the words out.
Tyler shrugged lazily, completely unconcerned about the answer.
“Everything,” he said.
With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone, opened my banking app, and watched as the numbers confirmed exactly what he had said.