I was just about to check out—nothing major, just a couple of shirts and some moisturizer—when I felt a light touch on my arm. I turned around and was surprised to see Yvette, my brother-in-law’s wife, standing there. She looked like she had been crying, her eyes a little red and puffy, though she tried to cover it up with a bright smile.
Before I could even say anything, she reached into her bag and pulled out a thick stack of bills, offering it to me like it was no big deal.
“I’ll get it,” she said warmly, pressing the money into my hand.
I shook my head immediately, telling her it wasn’t necessary, that I had everything under control. I wasn’t buying anything extravagant, after all. But Yvette was insistent. She squeezed the money into my hand and leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“Seriously, I need you to do me a favor,” she said, her tone making it clear it was important.
She glanced around quickly, as if checking to make sure no one was listening, then added, “Please don’t mention this to Julian.” Julian, of course, was her husband—my brother-in-law.
Confused, I asked her what was going on, but she only gave me a small, tight smile. “I just need to move some money around,” she said vaguely. “I’ll explain everything later, I promise.”
Before I could press for more details, she turned and quickly walked away, leaving me standing there with a handful of cash and a million questions swirling in my mind.