The next morning I called back because I could not sleep. A different person answered this time and pulled up my file. She confirmed all three cards had the same pattern. One of them even had my mother’s maiden name listed as the security question answer.

Tilffany would have known that from family stories we told at holidays.

I kept thinking about how she smiled when she left after Thanksgiving. She hugged me and said she was glad she could help. I had even given her a little extra money for gas because she drove all the way over.

The investigator asked me straight out if I was willing to press charges once they identified the person. I told her I did not know yet. She said they could freeze the accounts and start the investigation anyway but it would go faster if I signed the papers. I asked her what would happen to the person if it turned out to be someone close. She said that part was not up to her.

I signed the forms online two days later. The bank sent me copies and told me to expect a call from the police department in my county. I put the papers in a drawer and have not looked at them since.

Tilffany has not called me since before all this started. I keep wondering if she knows I found out or if she is just waiting to see what happens next. My sister has not mentioned anything either and I have not brought it up.

Every time I walk past that kitchen table I think about handing her my Social Security card. I should have known better than to let anyone type in those numbers for me. But she is my niece and I trusted her.

The washing machine is still sitting at Lowe’s waiting for someone else to buy it. I have not gone back for it. I just keep paying my regular bills on time and hoping the rest of this gets sorted without me having to say her name out loud to a police officer.

I can still smell the coffee that had gone cold on the table that day. Tilffany had her fingers on the keys and did not even look up when she asked for the card. “Just so I get the numbers right,” she said. The plastic was smooth in my hand when I pulled it from the drawer. I remember the little chip on the corner from years of carrying it in my wallet. She took it and typed fast. “There, all done,” she told me with a smile that reached her eyes. “This will make everything so much simpler for you.”