Forty Thousand Dollars Demanded to Bring Our Lost Daughter Home
“We do not need the cash,” George said, his voice flat and short.
Gentry sighed, leaning back in his leather chair. He adjusted his reading glasses and looked at the blue folder.
“If we reverse this now, George, the penalty is severe,” Gentry said. “The government treats early cancellation of these specific retirement certificates as an irregular transaction. You will lose the accrued interest for the last five years.”
“How much?” I asked.
“Three thousand eight hundred and forty dollars,” Gentry said.
The number landed hard in the quiet office. That was nearly three months of my father’s pension, gone because we had panicked over a photograph.
“Do it,” George said.
Gentry looked at him for a moment, then began typing on his computer keyboard. The clatter of the keys was the only sound in the room for five minutes.
“It will take forty-eight hours to return the remaining funds to your primary savings account,” Gentry said, sliding a white document across the desk. “Sign here, George.”
