Chapter 3 - The Price of a Golden Son
Dad swung around, grabbing Brandon by the collar of his t-shirt. "Trial? What trial is he talking about, Martha?" he demanded, looking wildly at my mother.
Mom burst into fresh tears, clutching the envelope to her chest. "It’s... it’s just some old paperwork, Robert. Brandon just borrowed a few things to clear some college debts—"
"Borrowed?" I stepped closer, my voice cutting through their hysteria like a scalpel. "He didn't borrow anything. He took out three separate student loans in my name, forged my signature on the electronic disbursement forms, and used my grandmother's trust fund to pay off the balance on his truck and his private credit cards. The forensic accountant at the bank didn't call it 'borrowing,' Dad. They called it identity theft and wire fraud."
The word fraud hung in the quiet foyer like a physical blow.
Dad’s grip on Brandon’s shirt slackened. He looked at his golden boy, searching his face for the easy lie, the charming smile, the effortless excuse that had always bailed him out of every scrape since kindergarten.
This time, Brandon couldn't even look him in the eye. He stared at the floor, his shoulders slumping under the crushing weight of reality.
"You did that?" Dad whispered, his voice hollow, the terrible realization sinking into his bones. "You stole from your sister? You used her future to pay for your car?"
"She wasn't even using the scholarship money yet!" Brandon snapped, the panic finally giving way to desperate, ugly defensiveness. "She was just going to go to some stupid state school anyway! I needed it for my fraternity dues and the car note! You always said family comes first, Dad! You said I was going to carry the family name into corporate law!"
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Dad’s hand drew back and struck Brandon across the face with a sharp, echoing crack that silenced the entire house.
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