Going Live: Bank Robbery, Bestie Meltdown

The officer interrogating me was Harold Jones, the same middle-aged captain from before.

He slammed a stack of documents onto the table with a loud bang.

"Wendy Sloan, 28 years old. Owner of a tech company that's valued at a billion dollars. You were a top student and a young entrepreneur. So tell me, why did you try to rob a bank?"

I gazed up at him with an innocent expression and said, "I told you already—for the money."

"For the money?" Harold let out a frustrated laugh. "Are you short on cash? Your company is about to go public, and you're treating your future like a joke?"

"It's precisely because we're going public that I'm short on cash." I started babbling nonsense. "It isn't cheap to maintain our connections and polish the books. I had no other option."

Harold's gaze sharpened, as if trying to find a crack in my story. "Do you have any idea what the consequences of your actions will be?"

"I'm aware." I nodded, ticking off on my fingers. "Robbing an armored truck counts as robbing a financial institution. If the amount involved is considerably large, it makes the circumstances especially serious. The minimum sentence is ten years, and the maximum is the death penalty."

I said this lightly, as if reciting from a textbook.

Harold frowned deeply. He went silent for a moment before deciding to switch tactics. "What about your family? Do they know you're doing this?"

At the mention of my family, I felt my heart clench painfully.

However, I kept that indifferent smile plastered on my face. "Them? If they knew, they'd probably support me. After all, if I succeeded, we would be on top of the world."

"You're insane!" Harold spat out through gritted teeth.

Just then, the door to the interrogation room flung open.

My brother, Liam Sloan, stormed in and grabbed me by the shoulders. His eyes were red-rimmed as he yelled, "Wen! What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind?"

When I saw how anxious and heartbroken he looked, my heart felt like it was being stabbed. Still, I had to keep up the act.

I violently shook off his hand and screamed hysterically, "Don't touch me! You're all in on it! You all want to hurt me!"

I curled up in the chair, holding my head and trembling as I muttered words to myself.

"Ghosts… Ghosts are everywhere… They're coming for me… They want to steal my money…"

Liam was utterly stunned. He stared at me in disbelief as his lips quivered. "Wen… W-What's wrong with you?"

Harold and the other officer exchanged glances, for they hadn't expected this turn of events.

I secretly watched their reactions through the gaps in my fingers while also keeping track of time in my head.

It was now 10:45 am. Zachary and Yvette should be in the bank's VIP room by now, having tea with the branch manager.

I had to stall everyone here.

"I want to see my lawyer! No! I won't see anyone!" I kept screaming. "You're all bad people! You're all working together to lock me up and split my assets!"

When Liam rushed forward to hug me, I ended up biting his arm. He grunted in pain, but he still held onto me tightly.

His voice was choked with sobs as he said, "Wen, don't be scared. It's me, your brother. I'm here, and I'll take you home.

"No! That place is a prison!" I shoved him away hard, pointing at him and then at Harold. "All of you! You're in it together!"

The scene was a mess. It felt like I was acting in some kind of ridiculous play.

Finally, Harold had enough and signaled another officer to escort Liam out. The interrogation room door closed, cutting off Liam's anguished cries.

I collapsed into the chair, gasping for air. My tears streamed down despite myself.

"I'm sorry, Liam. Just hold on a little longer," I thought. Soon, all of this would be over.