At My Birthday, The Money My 10-Year-Old Saved up over Months Went Missing — I Never Expected Who Was Behind It
My daughter Ava just turned 10, and for nearly a year she had been saving every penny she could. Birthday money from Grandma, quarters she earned helping me with laundry, even a crumpled five-dollar bill she once found in a parking lot and insisted on adding to her stash.
All of it was for one thing — a charm bracelet in the little boutique downtown. Not just any bracelet, but a silver, delicate one with tiny animal charms you could collect piece by piece — a fox, an owl, a dolphin. She had been stopping to admire it in the shop window for months, her eyes lighting up each time.
Last weekend, I hosted my own birthday party at home — a simple gathering with family and friends. My sister-in-law Chloe arrived dressed to impress, as always, the sort of person who calls a party “casual” only if the champagne isn’t vintage.
Once everyone had arrived, the kids ran off to play in the garden, chasing and laughing, while the adults mingled with glasses of wine, chatting about vacations and renovations. Ava carried her small floral purse with her — she’d been nervous about leaving it anywhere — but eventually set it down in her room before joining the other kids outside.
I was politely laughing at one of my friend’s stories when I noticed Ava coming toward me. She wasn’t walking — she was almost marching, clutching her purse to her chest. Her face was pale, her lips pressed tight.
“Mom, something’s wrong… can we talk? Now?”
My stomach dropped. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
She hesitated, glancing toward the staircase as if checking whether someone was watching. “I… I think Aunt Chloe took my money.”
The words hit me like ice water. “What do you mean she took it?”
Ava’s voice cracked. “I left my purse in my room. When I went back, all the cash was gone. And Aunt Chloe was in there… holding it.”
Heat rose in my face. Chloe — who wore a diamond bracelet worth more than my car — stealing from a child?
“Where is Aunt Chloe now?” I asked, my voice sharp and low.
Ava pointed toward the kitchen. And there she was — Chloe, smiling brightly, chatting animatedly with a couple of guests.
My blood boiled. I strode straight to her and demanded loudly, “WHY DID YOU TAKE MY DAUGHTER’S MONEY?”
She looked stunned, covering her mouth with her hand before quickly saying,
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t take any money. I have plenty of my own — this is slander.”
But then my daughter stepped forward. Her small voice cut through the hum of conversation, and with her words, every eye in the room turned to Chloe..
