Over the next few days, I became a detective in my own life. I combed through past statements, matched receipts with transactions, and made a series of calls to the bank’s fraud department. The more I dug, the more questions emerged. Why were these transactions happening in places I’d never been? Who had access to my information? Each call with the bank followed a similar script: polite apologies, promises of further investigation, but no concrete answers. “We’re doing everything we can,” they’d assure me, but the lack of progress only fueled my frustration. One afternoon, while sorting through emails, I noticed something odd—a message with a subject line I didn’t recognize. It was from an unfamiliar sender, and my instincts screamed caution. I opened the email cautiously, aware of the risk of phishing scams. The contents were cryptic, but it mentioned a meeting, a date, and an address. My curiosity piqued, I decided to follow this new lead, hoping it might bring me closer to uncovering the truth.
