“Hello? Ronnie? Ronnie, it’s your mother.” I’m on my way out the door of the office, into the street, and I swerve to dodge the foot traffic, bustling to get home.

“Yes, Momma, what is it?” I have to strain to hear her, and I press the phone against my ear.

“Your father and I have some exciting news for you.” Uh-oh. My mother’s idea of exciting varies wildly from ‘not exciting’ to ‘absolutely terrifying’, and you never know which one you’re going to get.

“We’ve decided to invest in this bond thing your firm is offering! Isn’t that great news?”

* * *

So, today we’re going to get ‘absolutely terrifying’. “What? You did what?” I grip my phone hard while I walk.

“Well, we saw an item on the financial news about how private investors are going to profit from this real fast when the bond starts trading next week, and we decided that now was the time. I know your father has spoken to you about it before, and it sounds like it’s a great idea.”

With mounting horror, I try to keep my voice calm. “So how much money did you put into it?”

“Well, we didn’t have much, but the broker we spoke to helped us arrange another loan on the house to raise the remaining capital.”

I stop short in the street. People bump into me from behind, and pass me, muttering. “You took out a loan on your house?”

“Yes. The broker said it would be fine, and you said it would—”

“Momma, I didn’t say anything about this. This deal is a bad idea. It’s going to hurt a lot of people. You need to stop this from happening, now.”

“A bad idea? How can it be a bad idea if you’re involved, and it’s going to make people money? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Look, it…if it goes ahead, it will mean that a lot of people will lose a lot of money. And most of those people are small investors, like you and Poppa. It’s like a bet, and they are on the losing side.” I’m still standing in the street, trying to find a way out of this situation as the crowd parts around me like water. “I’ve been worried about it for some time now, and I’ve been trying to find a way to stop it, but I can’t. I’m only a trainee, and the person I thought was going to listen to me won’t—”

“Now, Ronnie.” My mother’s voice is skeptical. “This isn’t just another one of your ideas, is it? You’re always changing your mind about things. You know that.”

My frustration boils over. “No, dammit, I’m not changing my mind! You keep telling me I need to grow up and be an adult. This is me being an adult. You brought me up to do the right thing by people, and I’m going to do that, even if it isn’t popular.”

There’s a silence on the other end of the phone. Finally, my mother speaks. “You’re sure about this?”

I take a deep breath. “Yes, Momma, I’m sure. This is going to hurt a lot of people, and I need to stop it from happening, somehow. Even if it costs me my job. I know you don’t like that idea, and believe me, I don’t like it either. But if I don’t, I’m going to regret this forever. If I’m going to be responsible, I’m going to be responsible for the consequences of my actions. That’s all.”

Another long pause. “Okay.”

I’m so surprised by this, I nearly drop my phone. “Okay?”

“Yes, okay. You sound like you are really determined this time. You get that from your father, you know? When your father sets his mind to something, I can’t change it, no matter how hard I try. So maybe this time you are right.”

I exhale, finally. “Okay, Momma. Thank you. Look, I have to go to work and find out what to do to stop this from happening. I’ll call you later, okay?”

I hang up and lean against a lamppost for a moment, looking up at the darkening sky. I have to find a way to get my parents out of this. I have to stop it from happening.

My phone buzzes again - my work email. It’s another form email from the reporter, fishing for information about the deal.

Dear Walters Capital employee,

If you have any information on the Macaulay Bond issue you would like to share, please contact me by reply to this email.

Yours, Dana Garvey

I stare at it for a minute. Maybe reporters can help. Maybe they could stop it from happening. Before I lose my nerve I reply.

Dear Dana,

Okay. I’ll tell you what’s happening, but you have to agree to keep the details off the record. I want the deal to be called off, because it will hurt small investors.

Within minutes, I get a reply.

Absolutely. Just tell us everything.

I take a deep breath, and start composing an email explaining everything.