Locked Out Over the Same Coat

My son-in-law, Thomas Clifford, frowned at me and said, "Fiona, this coat has always been stored in the closet in the second bedroom. You're the only one who has worn it in the past few days. No one else has touched it, so the money that was inside…"

He didn't finish his sentence, but the accusation in his words was crystal clear.

I looked at my daughter, Hannah Westfield, and waited for her input.

I didn't expect her to stretch out her hand toward me.

"You took it, right? Hurry and hand the money over. Giselle didn't say she was going to punish you. You're just delaying everyone from having dinner by dragging things out."

My heart felt hollow upon hearing Hannah's words.

I had raised her for over two decades. I didn't expect her to pin the blame on me just because Thomas' mother, Giselle Johnson, was adamant that I was the one who stole her money, especially when she didn't have proof to back up her accusation.

"I didn't steal her money."

"I was wondering why things in the house kept going missing," Giselle chimed in. "Turns out there was a thief among us!

"This is a terrible habit to have, Fiona. It's one thing for you to steal things from our home, but imagine if you get caught stealing things from someone else's home. Thomas and Hannah's reputations will be in shambles."

The other Cliffords voiced their support, saying, "She's right. Hannah must be so embarrassed to learn that her mother's a thief."

"As expected of someone who came from the sticks. She's totally unpresentable."

"I wouldn't let my mother leave the house if she behaved like this. How humiliating."

Hannah's face turned a ruddy red as she listened to their criticisms.

I thought she would defend me. Instead, she suddenly shot to her feet and started scolding me, pointing her finger at me.

"I already told you not to come, but you refused to listen to me! Are you happy now that you've ruined Christmas for everyone?"

In reality, Hannah had called me countless times, begging me to join them. Yet now, she was twisting the truth, making it seem as if I had joined their dinner without an invitation.

I felt my strength drain from my body as Hannah berated me. Feeling incredibly upset, I asked, "Do you really think that I'm the one who took the money?"

Hannah's eyes flashed as she replied, "Who else would take it but you? Besides, you're the only one who wore that coat. Hurry and return the money to Giselle."

Thomas chimed in, "20 thousand dollars isn't a lot of money anyway. You can tell us if you're tight on cash. It's not good to sneak around and steal other people's money."

I took a deep breath before standing up and saying, "I don't care if you believe me or not, but I didn't take the money. If you don't believe me, feel free to call the police. They'll get to the bottom of things and prove my innocence!"

Giselle pointed a finger at me and screamed, "Are you saying that I'm framing you, Fiona Westfield? My family isn't so poor that we have to extort money from a country bumpkin. Go ahead and call the police! I'm curious to see who they'll side with."

Hannah and Thomas exchanged a look before they rushed forward to comfort Giselle.

"It's Christmas Eve. We shouldn't get the police involved during such a happy occasion. It'll just ruin the mood for everyone."

However, Giselle refused to listen to them. She grabbed a stool and planted it next to the door before sitting heavily on it.

"We don't have to call the police, but I will get my money back one way or another. No one will have a good time until my money is returned to me!"

I was about to step forward and explain myself when Hannah pulled me to the side and hissed, "Why are you being so stubborn, Mom? You've already been caught red-handed, so hurry and return the money to Giselle. We can sweep this incident under the rug once you apologize to her."