It was a woman’s voice, shaking with tension.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“You don’t know me, but I work at your father’s bank,” the woman said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I saw what he did to your account tonight. You need to know that it’s worse than you think.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, gripping the phone tighter.

My father’s bank was a small regional institution, but he held immense sway there.

“He didn’t just freeze your account, Ava,” the woman whispered.

“He used your signature to co-sign a three-hundred-thousand-dollar business loan for Brandon.”

The cold air in my bedroom suddenly felt freezing.

“That’s impossible,” I said. “I never signed anything.”

“The paperwork says otherwise,” she said.

“They used your grandmother’s trust fund as the secondary collateral.”

“If the bank processes the default tomorrow, they will liquidate your entire tuition account to pay Brandon’s debt.”

My chest tightened, making it hard to draw a full breath.

“Who are you?” I demanded. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m a loan processor,” she said, her breath catching in a quick gasp.