answer.
My father’s jaw tightened. He’d been still long enough. “Enough,” he said. “Transfer the money. Now.”
I didn’t move.
He pulled out his phone.
“I’m calling 911,” he said, and his voice was flat in a way that told me he’d rehearsed this part. “You’re clearly not stable. You’re paranoid. We’re worried about your wellbeing.”
I will tell you something continue reading …