Glasses stayed half-raised.

Victor’s smile tightened.

“That’s impossible. His parents approved it.”

The officer shook her head.

“Even with parental involvement, this account is classified as a protected custodial education fund. Only the named beneficiary may authorize withdrawals once they reach legal age.”

She turned a page.

“Which Daniel Reyes has.”

Silence hit harder this time.

My parents looked confused.

Then uneasy.

Victor leaned forward.

“I was investing it for him. I increased returns—”

The officer cut him off.

“Those transfers were not investments.”

She slid a document across the table.

“They were cash withdrawals and account consolidations into personal holdings.”

The words landed slowly.

One by one.

Victor’s confidence cracked.

“I didn’t steal anything,” he said quickly. “It was temporary allocation—”

“Unauthorized access has already been flagged as fraud pending investigation,” she replied.

A second folder was placed on the table.

“Your accounts are now under review for immediate asset recovery.”

The room fell completely still.

Someone stood up and left quietly.

Then another.

Victor looked around like the audience might save him.

But there was nothing left to clap for.

He turned toward me.

“You’re really doing this to family?”

I met his eyes.

“You already did it to me first.”

The compliance officer closed the file.

“Mr. Reyes, your funds are being restored pending final reconciliation.”

By the time the party ended, the celebration was gone.

No speeches continued.

No music played.

Just chairs pushed back from tables that no longer felt like a victory.

And for the first time in months, my future account finally looked like mine again.