I took the knife from Inez's hand and picked up her phone.
“Go to your bank account,” I said, handing the phone back to her.
Her eyes widened, following my train of thought. But she did as I told her.
“Show me,” I said. She did. I whistled. Inez had a nice bit of money stowed away for someone our age. “That's a lot,” I noted. She seemed to be trying to say something, but my "don't make a sound" command was keeping her silent. "You can talk now," I said, then quickly added, "quietly! And... for that matter, don't ever say... or do... anything to hurt me or endanger me. Now... explain how you have all this money."
“I'm saving up for a down payment on a house. I've been saving for 6 years. Please. Please don't.”
I had pulled up my own bank account while she was talking. I wrote down the routing and account numbers and gave them to her.
“Transfer it. All of it. Now,” I said.
“But... but my bills. My rent. My insurance. My house. I-”
“All of it, now,” This was it. Either she cracked and admitted it was too much for her to do. Or this app was insanely magical.
Weeping, fingers trembling, she did it. Once it was done, she seemed to lose the ability to stand and ended up sitting on my floor, feet curled up under her, wailing. Maybe she was still acting. But I was starting to think she wasn't. I was starting to think-
Transfer pending. I received a notification on my bank account. There it was. Son of a bitch.
It was real. All of it. The woman on my floor had to do whatever I told her to do.
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