— I tried to make my voice sound as calm as possible.
— “The same, dear. The doctors say his condition is stable, but we can’t delay. Did you find out about the money?”
— “Yes, Mom, everything is fine,” — I lied, feeling my heart clench at the lie. — “I’m transferring the down payment on Monday, as we agreed. Don’t worry.”
I couldn’t tell her the truth. Not now. It would have crushed her. I had a week to find a way.
After hanging up, I opened my laptop. The first thing I did was go to the bank’s website and block all my cards and access to the online account. That was the first step. Igor and his mother would not get another penny from my accounts.
Then I started searching for information. I needed to understand what my chances were of getting the money back. “Withdrawing money from a spouse’s account with power of attorney,” “Fraud within the family,” “Contesting a notarized power of attorney.” The search engine returned hundreds of links to legal forums and articles. I read late into the night, and the more I read, the clearer the picture became. Getting the money back would be difficult, but possible. The power of attorney I signed was likely a general one, giving the right to any operations with the account. It could be contested, but to do so, I would need to prove that I was misled. And that is almost impossible without witnesses.
But there was another way. A criminal case. Article 159 of the Criminal Code—fraud committed by a group of persons by prior conspiracy. This was serious. Imprisonment for up to six years. I imagined Igor and his mother in the dock and shuddered. Could I do that? Yes. Without hesitation. They left me no choice.
The next day, I made an appointment with one of the best family law attorneys in the city. I found him through online reviews. Mikhail Borisovich, a man in his fifties with a piercing gaze and calm manners, listened to my story attentively. He didn’t interrupt, only made notes in his notebook.
— “The situation is difficult, but not hopeless,” — he said when I finished. — “A civil lawsuit will be tough. Your husband will claim that you gave him the right to manage the money, and his mother will say it was a gift from her son. Proving otherwise will be almost impossible.”
— “What about a criminal case?” — I asked.
— “That is a more promising path,” — the lawyer nodded. — “The key here is to prove intent to steal. The fact that the money was intended for your father’s surgery, and your husband knew about it—that’s our main trump card. Plus his mother, who faked an illness. We will need to gather evidence: recordings of phone conversations, correspondence, witness testimonies.”
— “I remembered my old job; I still have connections. I know how the system works from the inside. I can get their call records,” — I said, — “and possibly even recordings of some conversations.”
— “Excellent,” — Mikhail Borisovich’s eyes lit up. — “That will significantly strengthen our position. But you must understand, Marina Viktorovna, that this will be a war.”
— “A real war.”
— “They will defend themselves, lie, sling mud at you. Are you ready for that?”
— “I am ready,” — I answered firmly.
The next few days I devoted to gathering evidence. I contacted my former colleagues from the bank’s security department, explained the situation. The people I had worked side by side with for many years responded immediately. Two days later, I had the call records of Igor and Lyudmila Anatolyevna for the last month in my email. The picture was depressing. They called each other 10-15 times a day. The calls were especially active on the day I was in Zhytomyr and on the day the money was withdrawn. This was circumstantial, but strong evidence of their conspiracy.
The pressure from Igor and his mother intensified. He sent me messages full of remorse and pleas for forgiveness: “Marina, I will return everything. Just give me time. Don’t destroy our family.” Lyudmila Anatolyevna changed her tactics. Now she was sending me pitiful text messages: “Marinochka, I am so worried about your father. Let me pray for his health. God sees everything, he will help.” This cynicism drove me crazy.
But the hardest part was yet to come. I needed to find money for the surgery. The three hundred and eighty thousand left in the account was a drop in the ocean. I started calling friends and acquaintances, but no one could lend such a large sum. I was desperate. And then I decided on a last resort. I called my former boss, the head of the “Capitalbank” branch, Andrey Sergeevich. We had always been on good terms.
— “Andrey Sergeevich, hello. This is Marina Volkova.”
— “Marina! Hello. Long time no see. How are you? How’s your son?”
— “We’re fine. Thank you. Andrey Sergeevich, I have a very serious matter to discuss with you and an unusual request.”
I told him everything. About my father, my husband, the stolen money. He listened in silence, and I could hear his heavy breathing on the line.
— “What scoundrels,” — he said when I finished. — “Marina, I’ll figure something out. You know, we don’t abandon our own. The bank can give you a loan on favorable terms. And we’ll deal with your husband.”
The next day, I got a call from the credit department. I was approved for a loan of 500,000 at a minimal interest rate, as a bank employee. I cried with relief when I signed the documents. The world is not without kind people. The down payment for the surgery was made. My father was being prepared for transfer to Kyiv. One problem was solved. Now I had to solve the second one.
Igor, not getting a response from me, resorted to threats: “If you don’t come home, I will sue for custody of the child. And I will prove that you are a bad mother who abandoned her family in a difficult moment.”
That was the last straw. He dares to threaten me with my own son? He, who robbed this very son, depriving him of money for the future!
I called the lawyer.
— “Mikhail Borisovich, we are filing the application.”
— “Are you sure?”
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