The Account Under the Bed
You just wait, sometimes for decades, to be called back to it.
“He told me it was just a tax thing, Chloe,” he got out, his voice wrecked.
“He said everyone at the terminal does it.
He offered me fifty thousand dollars — I had debts, I was drowning — and I took it, and then the second I was in, he changed.
Last month he told me that if I ever stopped signing, he’d be the one to report me.
For fraud.
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