Georgia was at the beach with her grandchildren when they abruptly pointed to a neighboring café and shouted words that stopped her heart.
“Grandma, that’s Mom and Dad!” they exclaimed. Her breath caught as she turned to see a couple who looked eerily like her late daughter Monica and son-in-law Stephan—who had passed away in a tragic acc:ide:nt two years ago.
Grief has a way of altering you, reshaping the person you thought you were. But on that summer morning, standing in her kitchen and staring at an anonymous letter, Georgia felt something entirely different.
The note read just five words: They’re not really gone.
It was impossible. She had spent two years trying to build a stable life for her grandsons, Andy and Peter, after Monica and Stephan’s d3aths.
But that wasn’t all. Within minutes, Monica’s old credit card—the one Georgia had kept active to keep her daughter—buzzed her phone with a notification. A recent charge at a nearby coffee shop was mentioned in the alert.
“Hi, I’m calling about a transaction on my daughter’s account,” she said, her voice shaking.
The customer service representative, Billy, hesitated before responding.
“Ma’am, this charge wasn’t made with the physical card. It was a virtual card linked to the account.”
“A virtual card?” Georgia asked. “But I never set one up.”
“It appears the virtual card was created shortly before your daughter’s passing,” Billy explained. “Do you want me to deactivate it?”
