“If I didn’t get the loans, I couldn’t go.”

“I’d be stuck in that house forever.”

“With her.”

I understood the desperation, but it did not wash away my anger.

My aunt had hit me with a heavy glass bottle because I refused to give them money.

Now I knew the real reason for her fury.

I had threatened to ruin the elaborate lie she had constructed.

“Where are the documents now?” I asked.

“The loan approvals.”

“The correspondence.”

“They’re online,” Jason said.

“In the student portal.”

“And the physical copies?”

“My mother kept them in her desk,” he said.

“In the study.”

“The green folder under the tax receipts.”

I memorized the detail.

The green folder.

“You need to withdraw the police report,” Jason pleaded again, stepping closer.

“If you tell them she fell, or that it was an accident…”

“The police won’t dig into her files.”

“The school won’t find out.”

“My life won’t be ruined.”

“What about my life, Jason?” I asked.

“If the lenders default, they come after me.”

“If the fraud is discovered later, I look like a co-conspirator.”