“Family Ties Don’t Include Fraud”
I’m 22, living at home while saving up for a car. I pay \$300 in rent, cover all my own expenses, and recently got a credit card to start building credit. I only used it twice, paid it off immediately, and told just my dad.
Or so I thought.
Turns out my mom overheard. And somehow, she thought it was a good idea to tell my older brother Mark and his wife Kendra—both 28, both broke, and both perpetually living like they’re owed something.
A few hours later, I got the text.
Kendra: “Hey, can we borrow your credit card? Ours are maxed out, and yours is basically empty. It’s like free money.”
I blinked.
Me: “Uh, no. It’s not free. I’d owe the bank.”
Mark: “YOU OWE ME—I BABYSAT YOU WHEN WE WERE KIDS.”
I laughed out loud.
Me: “Didn’t ask to be born. And it wasn’t charity. Mom made you.”
No response. Until they showed up at the house a few days later.
Mark, arms crossed: “So? Got the card ready?”
Kendra, sweet smile like she wasn’t asking for federal fraud: “We’re family. What’s yours is ours.”
Me: “You must be kidding.”
Then Mom chimed in from behind them: “Help your brother. Don’t be selfish.”
Before I could explode, Dad walked into the kitchen. He looked at the scene once, then growled, “NO ONE SCAMS MY DAUGHTER. GET OUT.”
He never raises his voice, but they scrambled out fast.
I thought it was over.
Three days later, I reached into my bag and felt the cold rush of panic—my credit card was gone. I tore through everything. Nothing.
Then my phone rang.
Kendra.
Her voice was shaky. “We’re at the station. They want you to confirm you gave us the card.”
Wait. WHAT?
Before I could speak, an officer took the phone.
“Ma’am, did you authorize this charge of \$1,247.53 at Luxury Luggage & Apparel?”
I nearly laughed.
“Absolutely not. That card was stolen.”
The officer sighed. “That’s what we thought. Thank you.”
I asked what happened. He told me they were caught trying to buy a designer suitcase and shoes with a credit card that flagged instantly as suspicious. When asked whose card it was, they claimed I gave it to them.
But here’s the kicker:
They didn’t even memorize the card info. They had it physically.
I checked the security footage from our home cam in the hallway. Guess who snuck into my room while I was at work?
Mark.
He actually went into my bag and took the card. In his mom jeans and socks with sandals, no less.
The police said because I confirmed it was stolen, charges would move forward. I didn’t hesitate. I pressed charges.
Mom begged me to drop it. “They didn’t mean it! It was just desperate borrowing!”
Me: “No, Mom. Borrowing involves permission. This was theft.”
Dad backed me. “Play stupid games, win criminal records.”
It’s been quiet around the house. Mark and Kendra haven’t called. Their court date is next month.
My credit score? Still perfect.
My trust in “family”? Thoroughly reevaluated.
But the best part?
I got an apology letter… from Mark.
Inside it just said:
“Guess babysitting didn’t cover bail.”