The Bank's Mistake, My Payback Time

The bank's system might be slow, but it would eventually catch up.

Once Jessie realized the accounts didn't balance, the first thing she'd do was freeze my account.

I had the truth on my side, sure. But going to court against a bank? Dragging it out for a year or more? I didn't have that kind of patience.

I turned and walked into a commercial bank next door.

I pulled out the five thousand dollars in cash.

"I'd like to make a deposit."

The teller smiled brightly.

"Of course, ma'am. Please wait a moment."

A few minutes later, the cash had turned into numbers in my bank account.

But that wasn't enough.

I pulled out my phone and opened the mobile banking app for the other bank.

Staring at the "15,000" in my account, I didn't hesitate. I clicked transfer, all of it.

The money went to a third-party custodian account.

Want to freeze it? Good luck. The paperwork alone would exhaust them. By the time they finished, I'd have already withdrawn it and converted it into gold bars buried safely in my backyard.

Once all that was done, my stomach growled loudly.

I found a random place to eat. Halfway through my meal, my phone rang.

An unknown number. A local landline.

I had a pretty good guess who it was.

But I didn't answer.

The vibration stopped, then rang again.

And again.

Relentless, like a tireless death knell.

I didn't pick up the phone, not because I was scared. I was eating. And eating while talking on the phone ruins digestion—especially when the voice on the other end is a barking lunatic.

I finished the last piece of meat, let out a satisfied belch, and the phone was still ringing.

This time, a different number.

I slowly wiped my mouth with a napkin and pressed answer.

Before I could even speak, Jessie's hysterical shriek came through the line.

"Claire Dune! You little—! Get that money back to me! Now! Immediately! Right this second!"

I wasn't angry. I picked at my teeth with a toothpick, voice calm.

"And you are…?"

"Don't play dumb! I'm from the bank! The one who helped you this afternoon!"

Her voice trembled; she was close to losing it.

"Oh, it's you," I said casually. "What's the matter, 035?"

"Cut the crap! I messed up this afternoon, gave you extra money—no, I deposited it wrong!

"You'd better get it back to me right away, or I'll call the police!

"It was ten thousand dollars! A huge sum! If I report it, you'll go to jail!"

I held the phone slightly away from my ear. Her voice was nails-on-chalkboard loud.

After she finished yelling, I spoke slowly, "Excuse me, are you sure you're remembering this correctly? This afternoon, I confirmed it with you more than once. You said the bank isn't responsible once I leave the counter."

There was a noticeable pause on the other end before she erupted again.

"That was just me venting! Don't take my words literally! I'm telling you, Claire, the bank's money isn't that easy to take! This is unjust enrichment! It's a crime! If you don't return it, I'll make sure you regret it!"

I laughed.

"If it's a crime, go ahead and call the police. Let them come and get me."

I hung up.

And just like that, I blocked the number.

'Want me to return the money? Fine. But if you're asking, show some respect. This tone—commanding, bossy—is that how someone asks for a favor?'

Besides, I was not one to take a loss.