Chapter 28 Chapter 28
Then she burst into laughter again.
“Just imagine,” she mocked. “You only just came back, and it has not even been up to forty-eight hours, and already you are preparing to return to prison.”
She shook her head as though Megan had provided entertainment for the day.
“What a joke. What a careless, foolish mistake.”
Then Deborah stepped forward again, her face stern with entitled authority.
“One way or the other,” she said, “I will be seizing that card from you immediately.”
She stretched out her hand.
“Now, hand it over.”
The moment Deborah demanded the card, Megan stared at her for a second then burst into laughter.
Not nervous laughter.
Not disbelief.
It was the kind of laugh that carried pure mockery.
“You want me to hand it over to you?” Megan said, still laughing. “And for what exactly?”
Her eyes narrowed as she lifted the card slightly.
“Didn’t you just say it was fake? Or that I stole it? So now you want to be in possession of a fake item or a stolen one?”
She shook her head slowly, her expression turning cold.
“What kind of nonsense are you even saying? I should hand it over to you?”
Then she looked Deborah dead in the eye and said, “You must be sick.”
Deborah’s face tightened instantly.
But even beyond the insult, something else hit her in that moment something she could not ignore.
Megan was different, Radically different.
This was not the same frightened, fragile woman she had known before. The Megan she remembered would have crumbled by now. She would have backed down. She would have avoided eye contact. She would have surrendered out of fear, confusion, or desperation.
But this Megan? This one stood her ground.
This one did not tremble, this one was not afraid.
Ever since Megan had returned from prison, Deborah had not seen even a trace of the old weakness in her. Not once.
And that unsettled her.
What exactly had happened to her in prison?
What had changed her so completely? For a fleeting second, Deborah wondered.
But only for a second.
Because what mattered more to her was the opportunity in front of her.
If the card was fake, and Megan was one of those fraudsters trying to infiltrate Diamond Bank, then Deborah could be the one to expose her. She would be praised. She would be recognized. She might even be rewarded for helping the bank catch a con artist.
And if the card was stolen? Then even better.
If she recovered it and returned it to the rightful owner, she could still be celebrated and compensated.
Either way, there was something to gain. It was a win-win situation.
So she straightened herself and spoke with renewed force.
“That is none of your concern,” Deborah said sharply. “And I am not going to repeat myself again.”
She stretched out her hand once more.
“Now, hand the card over to me.”
Megan’s face hardened.
“You are not going to get it,” she said flatly. “Now get out of my way.”
And with that, she moved to pass them.
But suddenly, Deborah lunged.
She sprang forward in a desperate attempt to snatch the card from Megan’s hand.
It happened fast.
Too fast for Jessica to react.
Too fast for Deborah to recover from her own reckless movement.
In a flash, Megan caught Deborah’s wrist in midair.
Her grip was firm, Unyielding.
Far stronger than Deborah had expected.
Deborah had already thrown her weight forward in the jump, and with her wrist caught and her balance broken, her body twisted awkwardly. She lost her footing completely.
The next second, she crashed hard to the floor.
The impact was ugly, A sharp cry tore from her mouth almost immediately.
“My ankle!” she screamed. “My ankle!”
Then, without missing a beat, she pointed at Megan and began wailing even louder.
“Megan assaulted me! She assaulted me!”
Her face twisted in pain and outrage as she clutched herself dramatically.
“I sprained my ankle what the hell is wrong with you?”
Even though Jessica had seen everything clearly had seen with her own eyes that her mother was the one who lunged at Megan first there was no way she was going to side with Megan.
Not now, not ever.
And the moment she noticed the two security guards stationed at the front of Diamond Bank beginning to glance toward the disturbance, something sharp and calculating flashed through her mind.
This could still be turned around.
If she and her mother accused Megan loudly enough, confidently enough, the guards would come over. And once they did, Megan would be the one forced to explain herself. At the very least, she would be embarrassed. At best, she would be dragged away, questioned, and disgraced all over again.
That alone was enough for Jessica.
So the moment she heard Deborah crying out, she instantly joined in.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jessica shouted, rushing to her mother’s side. “Why would you assault my mother like that?”
Her voice rose higher, filled with outrage manufactured outrage, but convincing all the same.
“What is wrong with you, you crazy ex-convict?” she snapped. “Is it now a crime to say no to you? Is it a crime to ask for what you stole from the bank to be returned?”
She glared at Megan as if she were looking at a dangerous criminal.
“Is it a crime?” Jessica repeated. “Then why would you attack my mother?”
By then, the two security guards had already noticed the commotion properly.
Seeing Deborah on the ground, Jessica shouting, and Megan standing there with a card still in her hand, they immediately began walking toward them.
Their expressions hardened as they approached.
When they got close enough, one of them frowned and asked, “What exactly is going on here?”
Deborah did not waste a second.
Still sitting on the floor and clutching her ankle dramatically, she pointed at Megan with trembling indignation.
“I am Deborah Bushman,” she said quickly, “a Silver card holder of Diamond Bank.”
To emphasize her words, she reached into her bag and brought out her card.
Then she continued, speaking fast, as though desperate to control the narrative before Megan could say anything.
“We came across this woman an ex-convict and she is carrying a Diamond card.”
Her voice sharpened.
“A Diamond card.”
She stressed the words as if their absurdity alone should prove her case.
“That can only mean one of two things: either the card is fake, or she stole it from someone. Because she is an ex-convict. She just came out of prison yesterday after serving five years. There is no possible way someone like her should be in possession of a Diamond card.”
Jessica nodded vigorously beside her.
“So naturally,” Deborah continued, “I tried to question her. I tried to stop her from running. And instead of cooperating, she attacked me. She pushed me to the ground, and now I have twisted my ankle.”
She let out another cry for effect.
“She was trying to escape. I was only trying to hold her.”
The guards exchanged a quick look.
A Silver card holder making an accusation was already serious enough in their eyes. But the suggestion that someone might be using a fake or stolen Diamond card to gain access to the bank elevated the matter completely.
That was not a small issue.
That was something the bank would treat as a serious offense.
So one of the guards stepped forward, his face stern and professional.
“Please,” he said, extending his hand slightly, “can we see the Diamond card in your possession?”