My son drained every last dollar from our life savings accounts and disappeared with the woman who helped him do it. I was heartbroken beyond words — until my 13-year-old grandson smiled and said, “Grandma, don’t worry. I’ve handled it.” A few days later, my son called back in a panic…

I opened the door and found Mason sitting at his desk, still fully dressed, surrounded by notebooks and printed papers. His laptop screen glowed with windows and charts I could not begin to understand. A mug of untouched cocoa sat beside his elbow, the marshmallows melted into a thin white skin.

“What are you doing up so late?”

“Research.” He gestured to the papers scattered across his desk. “I’ve been going through Dad’s digital trail for the past three hours.”

“His digital trail?”

I moved closer, trying to make sense of the documents. Bank statements.

Credit reports. Account summaries. Email printouts.

All bearing our family name. “Mason, where did you get these?”

“Dad wasn’t careful,” he said. “He left things saved, synced, and open in places he forgot about.”

His tone made my stomach drop.

“Mason…”