“I already called Mr. Henderson,” I told her. “And he is calling the police.”

The next few months were a blur of lawyers, police interviews, and court dates. It turned out what Karen did was grand theft and felony trust fraud.

The police arrested her at the Walmart during her afternoon shift. The gossip spread through our small town like wildfire.

The court issued an injunction and froze all of Toby’s bank accounts. A team of forensic accountants went through KT Holdings and seized his condo, his boat, and his jet skis.

Toby tried to flee, but they caught him at the airport in Miami. He was charged as an accessory because he had signed documents acknowledging the trust funds.

Aunt Karen pleaded guilty to avoid a longer prison sentence. She was sentenced to five years in prison.

The court ordered the sale of all of Toby’s seized assets. After the liquidations, they managed to recover about three hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

It was not the full amount, but it was enough to change my life. I sold the drafty little house on Maple Street. I could not stand to look at it anymore.

I moved to Chicago. Not to look for a secret brother, but to start over. I enrolled in college and bought my first pair of brand-new, comfortable boots.

I still have the remaining twelve thousand dollars in a separate account. I do not touch it. It is my safety net.

Sometimes I think about Karen sitting in her cell, with no crossword puzzles and no cheap blue pens.

I used to feel guilty for calling the police on the woman who raised me. But then I look at my new life, and I realize I didn’t destroy our family. She did.