I Thanked My Aunt For The Bicycle She Gave Me, But She Replied, “I Actually Gave You A Mercedes-Benz, You Know?”

Digital Proof and the Missing Dot

“Tracy, what is all this?” Aunt Sandra stared sharply at the display.

“Aunt Sandra, this is where your $500,000 went.” I tapped the screen. Bank transaction records appeared.

“November 14th, 2025. You did, in fact, deposit $500,000 into my account. But just 20 hours later, at 10:00 a.m. on November 15th, nearly the entire amount—$499,800—was wired to an external account. And the recipient’s name is sitting right there at this table: Emma Irving.”

“What?” Ryan, seated next to her, looked at Emma in shock.

“Emma, what is this supposed to mean? That Mercedes and the wedding funds? You told me those were proof of your success as an influencer. You said you bought everything with legitimate earnings!”

Emma went pale, trembling as she dropped her gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

“Ryan, it seems you were just another one of the people she deceived.” I said coldly, advancing to the next slide.

“Emma, you sold out Aunt Sandra’s trust and mine for your own luxury and for a wedding meant only to satisfy your vanity. You even dragged your completely unsuspecting fiancé into your lies, forcing him to play along with the illusion of a successful woman.”

“Take a look at this Mercedes purchase contract. The registered owner is Emma Irving, and every single payment came from the stolen $500,000 taken from my account.”

“Ryan, you were led to believe she bought it with her own money and ended up marching along in her personal parade of vanity.”

“No, this can’t be real.” Ryan collapsed weakly back into his chair.

Emma’s face twisted as she stood up abruptly.

“Stop it! This is all fabricated! Anyone could forge something like this! Tracy, you’re trying to frame me!”

“Fabricated? Unfortunately for you, these are official logs extracted directly from the bank’s mainframe, complete with encrypted authentication signatures. Once I begin a serious investigation, there are no numbers in this world I can’t reach.”

“And this,” I continued, “is the power of attorney that made the transfer possible. It was submitted to the bank without my knowledge. With it, Kathy Irving, my own mother, was granted full control over my account. Please look at the signature at the bottom.”

I took out a laser pointer and indicated a single spot.

“At first glance, it looks like my signature, but forensic digital analysis shows it was created by digitally compositing scans of my handwriting from multiple past documents. The pen pressure is unnaturally uniform; there’s none of the microscopic variation that appears when a real human hand signs.”

“And most importantly, there’s this.” I zoomed in on the signature to its maximum.

“When I sign important legal documents, I always place an almost invisible dot at the upper right of the first letter. It’s an analogue security habit I’ve used for years to protect myself. But it’s missing here.”

“Mom, you focused so hard on copying my handwriting that you never noticed my habit.”

My mother covered her face and began to shake violently.

“I… I was only thinking about the family! Emma needed a beautiful wedding! You already make more than enough money. I didn’t think you’d notice!”

“You didn’t think I’d notice? You stole half a million dollars from your own daughter and thought you wouldn’t get caught in the very field she specialises in?”

My voice carried a chill that surprised even me.