Chapter 6 - The Empty Bank Account
While Naomi and her family enjoyed the tropical paradise of Key West, Betsy and Pamela were sitting in the cramped office of a small local bank branch in the town near Pinecrest Lake.
Betsy was leaning across the wooden desk, shouting at a young, visibly uncomfortable bank manager named Mr. Davis.
“What do you mean my emergency credit line is locked?!” Betsy demanded, her knuckles white as she slammed her hand onto the desk. “I have been a customer of this banking institution for over fifteen years!”
Mr. Davis cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses as he looked at the computer screen. “Mrs. Bennett, the primary guarantor on your personal credit line was your son, Mr. Lucas Bennett. As of 6:00 AM this morning, Mr. Bennett officially removed himself as a financial guarantor from all linked accounts. Without his income backing the line, your credit score does not meet the minimum requirement to maintain an open balance.”
“He can’t just remove himself!” Pamela yelled from the chair beside her mother. “That’s illegal!”
“It is entirely legal, miss,” Mr. Davis replied coldly. “A guarantor can revoke their backing at any time. Furthermore, Mr. Bennett has submitted a formal notice of financial disassociation to our legal department. Any attempt to use cards associated with his name or business will be flagged as unauthorized transaction attempts.”
Betsy felt the room spin around her. Her mouth went dry, a cold sweat breaking out across her forehead.
“How... how much money is currently available in my personal checking account?” Betsy whispered, her arrogance completely vanishing.
Mr. Davis pressed a few keys on his keyboard. “Your current cleared balance is forty-three dollars and twelve cents. However, you have an outstanding processing fee of fifty dollars for the declined transaction from yesterday, which leaves your account in a negative balance of seven dollars and eighty-eight cents.”
Pamela let out a strangled gasp, burying her face in her hands. “We’re broke. We’re literally homeless broke.”
“We are not broke!” Betsy snarled at her daughter, though her voice lacked conviction. She turned back to the bank manager. “Listen to me, Mr. Davis. My son is under the influence of his vicious wife. This is all a temporary misunderstanding. You need to give me a short-term cash loan of five thousand dollars so I can return to the city.”
Mr. Davis looked at Betsy as if she had lost her mind. “Mrs. Bennett, you have no proof of employment, no independent income, and an overdrawn checking account. We cannot issue you a loan. I am going to have to ask you to leave the branch now.”
Ten minutes later, Betsy and Pamela stood on the sunny sidewalk outside the bank, surrounded once again by their heavy designer suitcases.
The contrast was brutal. They were wearing thousands of dollars in clothes, carrying luxury handbags, standing in an affluent mountain town—and they didn't have enough money to buy a single cup of coffee.
“Mom,” Pamela sobbed hysterically, her makeup running down her cheeks. “What are we going to do?! We can’t even afford a bus ticket back to the city! A bus ticket is sixty dollars each!”
Betsy stood frozen on the pavement, her heart pounding violently in her chest. For the first time in her life, she felt true, unadulterated panic.
She pulled out her phone and opened her contacts list. She began frantically scrolling through the names of her wealthy friends—the women from her country club, the ladies she had bragged to about her luxury lifestyle, the people she had boasted to about her son’s endless wealth.
She picked a name: Evelyn, a prominent socialite from her bridge club.
Betsy dialed the number, swallowing her pride, forcing her voice into a desperate, fake laugh as Evelyn answered.
“Evelyn, darling!” Betsy chirped into the phone. “Oh, it’s so wonderful to hear your voice! Listen, I’m having a small, silly technical issue with my banking app while up at the lake house... I was wondering if you could wire me a quick thousand dollars until tomorrow?”
On the other end of the line, Evelyn let out a cold, sharp laugh.
“A thousand dollars, Betsy?” Evelyn said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Why don’t you ask your daughter-in-law, Naomi? Everyone saw her Instagram post last night. She’s flying her parents around in a private jet to Key West while you’re posting angry rants on Facebook. Word travels fast, Betsy. We all know Lucas cut you off.”
Betsy’s blood ran cold. “What... what are you talking about?”
“We know you don’t have a dime of your own, Betsy,” Evelyn snapped. “You’ve been living off that poor girl’s hard work for years while talking behind her back at the club. Nobody is going to loan you a single cent. Good luck.”
Click.
The line went dead.
Betsy stared at her phone as another text notification popped up from Pamela’s phone screen.
May you like
Pamela dropped her phone onto her suitcase, looking at her mother with wide, terrified eyes.
“Mom...” Pamela whispered, her voice trembling uncontrollably. “It’s from the landlord of our townhome in the city. There’s an eviction notice posted on our front door.”
