The Bank Account

I woke up to a notification from my bank.

Someone had deposited $50,000 into my account.

There was no name.

No explanation.

Just one message attached to the transfer:

“Don’t tell anyone.”

I thought it was a mistake.

I called the bank.

They told me the transfer was real.

The money was mine.

By lunchtime, I received a second message.

This one wasn’t from the bank.

It was a text.

“Have you spent any of it yet?”

I replied immediately.

“Who is this?”

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

A minute later, another message arrived.

“Good. That means they haven’t found you yet.”

Part 2 in the comments.

I stared at the screen.

“What are you talking about?”

No reply.

An hour later, the bank called back.

The transfer had been traced to an inactive account belonging to a man who died eight years ago.

That evening, I received one final text.

“Check your mailbox.”

Inside was a photograph of me leaving work the day before.

On the back, someone had written:

“You have 24 hours to return the money.”

The next morning, the entire $50,000 had disappeared from my account.

As if it had never been there.

The bank later told me there was no record of the deposit.

None at all.