It was a warm afternoon in Chicago when seventeen-year-old Alyssa Carter walked into the tall glass doors of Northwell Bank, holding her very first paycheck. The paper felt heavier than it should have — it wasn’t just money, it was proof that she had done something on her own. After weeks working as an intern at a digital-design firm, she was proud of the $420 she’d earned.
She stood in line, wearing her denim jacket and sneakers, rehearsing her words: “I’d like to deposit this, please.” Simple enough. When it was her turn, she smiled at the teller, a woman with polite eyes who looked at the check, hesitated, and said she needed to get her manager.
Alyssa’s stomach tightened. The teller walked away, and within seconds a man appeared — Mr. Greer, the branch manager. His expression was all business, his voice clipped. “Miss, may I see your ID?”
Alyssa handed it over without thinking. Mr. Greer studied it, then the check, then her again. “Where did this come from?” he asked.
“From my job,” she said carefully. “At NovaPoint Creative.”
He raised a brow. “That’s a corporate design firm downtown. You’re saying you work there?”
“Yes, sir. I was an intern this summer.”