“Ms. Mendoza, we’ve detected unusual activity on your savings account,” the bank representative said. “Regular transfers to an event services provider in Guadalajara. Do you authorize them?”
I felt a hollowness in my stomach. Event planner. Wedding.
I asked for details. Dates. Amounts. There had been small monthly transfers for years: 4,000, 6,000, 10,000 pesos. “They don’t hurt,” I thought. “They’re unnoticeable.” My mother didn’t try to rob me all at once. She patiently drained me.
“I didn’t authorize it,” I said.
I blocked the account, changed the passwords, and requested the entire transaction history. When I saw the beneficiary’s name, Luz Nupcial Eventos, I remembered a comment Daniela had made months earlier: “Mom almost paid for the venue.” I thought it was a joint family effort. Instead, it was my dirty money, paid in installments.
I called a lawyer in Puerto Vallarta, Helena Koenig, a German living in Mexico, quickly and without fuss.
“This is unauthorized embezzlement,” he told me. “And if your mother filed a false report, things are getting worse. We’ll respond with what most annoys those responsible: bureaucracy.”
Helena sent a request to the bank to obtain traceability information and the identity of the person who authorized those transfers. She also requested invoices and contracts from the event organizer. At the same time, she accompanied me to formalize my complaint regarding the threats, attaching the audio recording.
Three days later, my mother called me. Not to ask if I was okay. To give me orders.
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