Sarah asked if she could stay at my apartment for a week while she finalized the last few wedding details. Her lease was up, she and Derek had not yet moved into their new place, and she needed somewhere to land. I said yes without hesitation. She is my sister. Of course I said yes.

The week started normally enough. She was on her laptop constantly, making calls, sending emails, stressing about centerpieces and seating charts. I gave her space. I went to work, came home, made dinner, tried not to get pulled into the vortex of wedding anxiety that seemed to follow her everywhere.

On the fourth day of her stay, I was sitting at my desk at work when my phone buzzed with an American Express notification. A pending charge. The amount made me stop breathing for a moment.

Fifteen thousand dollars.

The merchant name read: Luxury Events Catering Co.

I sat there staring at my phone for a full thirty seconds, convinced I had misread it. I had not. Fifteen thousand dollars had been charged to my credit card — a card that Sarah had no authorization to use, a card whose number she could only have gotten by going through my things while I was at work.

I called her immediately. She picked up on the second ring, which told me she had been expecting the call.