My So Called Friend Thought She Could Rob My Family and Get Away With It – But I Knew a Trick She Didn't See Coming
I believed I was simply gaining a new friend until Amber arrived with a silent companion for dinner who "lost her way" while searching for the bathroom. Several days passed before my wedding earrings vanished and someone emptied our bank account. They assumed they were clever. However, I prepared a strategy to ensure they faced consequences!
Ben and I wed when I reached 19 and he turned 22. We shared deep love, yet everyone only saw his wealth. Ben belonged to a rich family, rich enough to present us with a beautiful house as our wedding gift. He held a position in his family's logistics business, gaining respect as he advanced through the company while pursuing part-time studies to expand his Business Administration degree.
My pregnancy began several months after our marriage, making life appear perfect until loneliness slowly surrounded me. My friends remained in high school or attended college. Ben spent entire days working and most evenings studying. Although we created time together, I felt isolated.
Amber entered my life at this point. She attended her final year at my former high school. We shared no close bond but socialized within the same group. When she began visiting after school, I questioned nothing about her presence.
"This house looks absolutely beautiful!" she would exclaim, stretching across my sofa as if she lived there. "You create baked goods from basic ingredients? That seems amazing. I desire my life to be as organized as yours."
She would make sweet sounds at items I purchased for the baby, question me about Ben's work, express wonder at my kitchen equipment, and praise my craft creations (yes, boredom drove me to start crafting). Her presence helped me feel connected to the world, still myself rather than simply someone's spouse or a pregnant woman at four months.
Amber requested that her friend join us for dinner one evening. I felt excited about expanding my social connections. Amber's friend Melanie avoided eye contact during introductions. I assumed she felt shy.
Dinner reached its midpoint when Melanie asked permission to use the bathroom. I directed her down the hallway. "Take the first door on your left." She disappeared for an extended period, longer than normal circumstances would require.
I started questioning whether Amber and I should search for her when she returned to the dining room.
"Is everything fine?" I inquired.
"Excellent," she replied. "I simply became confused about directions."
They departed soon after. Amber spoke excitedly about the enjoyable evening and suggested we repeat it soon.
Seven days passed before I discovered my situation.
I prepared for date night and chose to wear my wedding earrings. These white pearl drops with diamond borders were Ben's wedding gift to me. The velvet container sat empty.
"Ben?" I shouted downstairs, panic already filling my voice. "Did you relocate my wedding earrings?"
"No," he answered, worry creeping into his tone. "Why would I move them?"
Fear struck me then. Those earrings cost significant money and were custom-made gifts that could never be replaced! I searched through the house frantically, emptying jewelry containers, examining coat pockets, and checking the laundry basket.
"Perhaps they dropped behind the dresser," Ben proposed, though we both understood the truth. Those earrings stayed in that velvet container, and I always returned them there after wearing them. Someone had stolen them.
The situation continued beyond this point.
Ben examined our bank accounts the following morning when his face turned white.
"Dear, examine this."
Our secondary checking account, which he used for purchasing and selling vintage bicycle parts, showed an overdraft of $1000. We rarely accessed that account, keeping the balance minimal. Now we stared at numerous transactions from the local shopping center: Forever 21, Sephora, GameStop, Bath and Body Works. The list continued.
"That seems impossible," I stated.
Ben walked directly to the bedroom and opened the dresser drawer containing that specific debit card.
"It disappeared," he said quietly, giving me a serious expression. "Exactly like the earrings."
The realization struck me: Melanie and her extended bathroom visit. She had not searched for the toilet. She had committed theft.
I began making telephone calls right away. Most shopping center stores provided no help. They lacked security cameras and possessed no method to identify who used the card. One shop had security footage but would only release camera recordings if we submitted a police report.
The bank employee informed me, "Submit a theft report or accept responsibility for the charges. We cannot cancel overdraft fees without evidence of criminal behavior."
I calculated the numbers. The taken money combined with overdraft fees totaled $1,200. Adding the earrings, which insurance valued at $800, meant losses exceeding $2,000. Our state classified this amount as a felony offense.
I remained uncertain about pursuing severe action against teenagers, yet I demanded explanations.
"Can we speak?" I messaged Amber. "An issue has arisen."
She arrived that afternoon displaying lively energy and cheerful expressions. She remained completely unaware her situation would soon change.
"Listen," I stated, sitting opposite her with folded hands, "unfortunate news has emerged. Someone took my wedding earrings and Ben's debit card last week. We plan to file felony theft charges."
A brief moment passed when something flashed in her eyes - calculation rather than shock. She then shrugged her shoulders.
"That's awful. Good luck identifying who used your card. Those shopping center stores lack cameras."
Perfect! She had just revealed her guilt.
I smiled. "One store actually has them. High-definition recordings, everything. They stand ready to provide footage to police once we submit the report."
Color disappeared from her face so quickly I feared she might collapse. She mumbled something about needing to return home.
"Certainly," I replied, escorting her to the door.
Twenty-eight minutes passed before someone knocked at my door. Amber stood on my porch, looking pale and perspiring, holding a plastic sandwich container. The bag contained my pearl earrings, the missing debit card, and a diamond ring from my great-aunt. I had not even realized it was gone.
"I took nothing," she began, words spilling out as if practiced. "Melanie did it. I apologize. I refused to betray her, but I could not allow you to believe I participated."
I crossed my arms. "Yet you felt comfortable betraying me."
Her expression changed, and she made an error. "We barely obtained much! Most purchases were just clothing and lip products!"
She attempted to retreat, stumbling through explanations, but the moment had passed. The truth had emerged.
"You participated then," I declared.
"I will gladly submit felony charges," I cut her off, "and allow the police to determine who purchased what. I feel confident the security recordings will clarify everything."
Real panic set in then.
"Please!" she seized my arm. "Please avoid contacting the police. I am 18! They would charge me as an adult! I will do anything. I will repay you, I will—"
She provided me with everything, and that evening, I placed the telephone calls.
The first mother wept. The second father cursed so inventively that I felt nearly impressed. The third pair of parents simply remained quiet for an extended moment before asking what they could do to correct the situation.
I offered them all identical terms: repay the complete amount taken, including each overdraft charge, or I would submit official fraud charges with the bank and allow the legal system to manage it.
During the following weeks, I received payments in envelopes. Amber continued attempting to bargain, complaining that it seemed "unjust" because the overdraft charges increased the total beyond what they had actually purchased.
"Some individuals might describe that as karma," I informed her before ending the call.
The money returned completely, eventually. I found great satisfaction in visiting the restaurant where Amber and her friends had obtained jobs after school to repay their debt to me. I would sit in a corner table with a glass of water and a slice of pie and observe them handle difficult customers, clean up messes, and rush around during busy periods like confused workers.
News spread throughout our neighborhood about what had occurred and how I had managed it. No additional high school acquaintances appeared at my door seeking free food and adult approval. Amber vanished from my life entirely, which honestly brought relief.
Most significantly, I ceased desiring the company of girls who wanted my lifestyle but not my friendship.
Any similarity to real individuals, whether alive or deceased, or real incidents remains entirely accidental and unintended by the writer.
The writer and publisher assert no responsibility for the accuracy of events or character descriptions and bear no liability for any misunderstanding. This narrative appears "as presented," and any viewpoints expressed belong to the characters and do not represent the perspectives of the writer or publisher.
