Her tone sharpened. “Do you have possession of the card now?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We’re freezing the account. Given the volume and pattern of withdrawals, this has been flagged for internal review. I also need to ask—do you know the source of the funds in the savings account?”

I closed my eyes.

“Yes,” I said. “It’s part of a restricted disbursement connected to my aunt’s wrongful death settlement.”

There was a brief pause.

“I see,” Natalie said carefully. “Then you need to come into the branch first thing in the morning. Bring identification and any related documentation you have. If these funds were withdrawn by an unauthorized person, this may involve both law enforcement and probate compliance.”

I thanked her, hung up, and sat motionless in the driver’s seat.

Three years earlier, my aunt Rebecca had died in a trucking accident outside Dayton. She had no children, no spouse, and—shockingly—had named me in a small private trust created from part of the settlement. Not because I was her favorite, but because I had taken her to chemo, handled her paperwork, and stayed by her side in the hospital when everyone else found excuses. The trust wasn’t large. After legal fees and taxes, it came to just under forty thousand dollars. But it was enough to fund graduate school if I used it wisely. The money had been placed in an account under my name with reporting restrictions. I could spend it on tuition, housing, books, transportation, and documented living costs. Large or irregular withdrawals triggered review.