I Noticed My Granddaughter’s Boyfriend Controlling Her Food At Easter Brunch. Then I Discovered He Stole Her Entire $32,000 Life Savings. Did I Go Too Far By Calling The Cops During His Last Power Trip?

Everyone was impressed.

“Lily’s been helping me manage some of our joint accounts,” He said, his arm around her shoulders.

“She’s getting so good with money now, aren’t you, babe?” He asked.

Our joint accounts? They weren’t even engaged as far as I knew.

“I didn’t know you had joint accounts,” Clare said, surprised.

“Oh, yes,” Marcus said smoothly.

“It made sense, you know, for our future. Lily transferred most of her savings over last month. I’m investing it for us, getting much better returns than that basic savings account she had.”

I looked at Lily. She wasn’t smiling anymore; she was staring at her lap.,

“Most of your savings?” I heard myself say.

“Lily, you spent years building up that emergency fund.” I reminded her.

“It’s an investment, Mrs. Peterson,” Marcus said, his voice still friendly but with an edge.

“Lily trusts me to make smart decisions for our future. Don’t you, Lily?” He pushed.

“Yes,” Lily said quietly.

“Of course.” She added.

The rest of brunch passed in a blur. I served dessert, I poured coffee, I laughed at jokes, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.

I kept watching Lily—the way she checked her phone every few minutes, the way she asked Marcus before she accepted a second piece of pie, the way she jumped when he called her name. After dessert, the family moved to the living room, but I excused myself to use the bathroom.

As I walked down the hallway, I heard Marcus’s voice coming from my study. The door was slightly ajar.

“I told you to check with me before you agreed to anything,” He was saying, his voice low and hard.

“Did you even think about what I would say?” He demanded.

“I’m sorry,” Lily’s voice was small.

“I didn’t think—” She began.

“That’s the problem, Lily. You don’t think. That’s why I have to manage everything for us: your money, your schedule, your decisions. Because left to yourself, you make stupid choices.”,

I froze in the hallway.

“I want to see your phone,” Marcus continued.

“You were texting someone earlier. Who was it?” He asked.

“Just my friend Emma. She was wishing me Happy Easter.” Lily replied.

“Emma? The one who doesn’t like me? I thought we agreed you were going to distance yourself from her.” He stated.

“We did. I just—” Lily said.

“Give me your phone, Lily.” He ordered.

There was a pause. Then I heard Lily say,

“Okay.”

I had heard enough. I walked back to the living room, my heart pounding, and rejoined the family.

I smiled and chatted and acted normal, but inside I was screaming. The family started leaving around three.

David and Sarah left first, then Clare and Tom. Marcus and Lily were the last to go.

“Thank you for a lovely brunch, Mrs. Peterson,” Marcus said, shaking my hand.

“Lily and I really appreciated it.” He added.

“Lily,” I said, holding her hand as she hugged me goodbye.

“Would you mind helping me sort through some old photo albums this week? I’d love your help organizing them.”,

I saw something flicker in her eyes. Hope, maybe.

“I don’t think she has time for that,” Marcus said.

“We have a busy week. I have several evening events she needs to attend with me.” He declared.

“It would just be an hour or two,” I pressed, still looking at Lily.

“Maybe Tuesday afternoon?” I suggested.

“I can ask Marcus,” Lily said softly.

“She can ask me,” Marcus confirmed, his hand on her back steering her toward the door.

“We’ll let you know.” He concluded.

After they left, I sat in my living room for a long time. I thought about my own marriage, about the partnership Robert and I had built.

I thought about my daughters, both in healthy, equal relationships. And I thought about Lily.

Brilliant Lily, who had graduated Summa Cum Laude, who had traveled to three continents before she turned 25, who used to light up a room with her confidence. That night, I couldn’t sleep.

I kept thinking about what I had overheard: about the joint accounts, about the phone checking, about the way he spoke to her. The next morning, I did something I had never done before.,

I called in sick to my volunteer shift at the library, and instead, I drove to the coffee shop near Lily’s apartment. I texted her at Java Junction:

“Would love to see you if you’re free.”

She texted back,

“Marcus is at work. I can come for 30 minutes.”

The Mirror and the Coffee Shop

Twenty minutes later, Lily walked in. She looked tired, thinner than I remembered.

“Grandma, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” She asked.