My Wife Set Up My Little Sister to Kick Her Out but She Didn't Get Away with It

Sam's heart sank when he found the missing money hidden among Jazmin's belongings. Shocked and betrayed, he had to face the truth: his wife had framed his little sister for a crime she didn't commit.

I stared at the money in my hand, my heart pounding in my chest. It was the exact amount that had gone missing two months ago. I found it stuffed under some books in Jazmin's closet, hidden in an old envelope.

My mind was racing. I sank down onto the bed, still gripping the cash. It didn't make any sense. Why was it here? How did it end up among her things? I tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like the room was closing in on me. I needed to understand how this happened.

My thoughts drifted back to when it all started, two months ago. That was when everything began to fall apart.

Emma had just moved in with us. She's my little sister, only 16, and she needed a place to stay. Our mom had gotten really sick, and she was in the hospital. There was no one else to look after Emma. Dad passed away three years ago, so it was up to me to take care of her.

Jazmin agreed at first. She knew Emma needed us. But things started getting tense after a few weeks. Jazmin was pregnant and dealing with a lot herself. I tried to be there for both of them, but it wasn't easy.

"Sam, she's using up all the hot water again," Jazmin had said one morning, frustration clear in her voice. "I know she's going through a hard time, but we need to set some boundaries."

"She's still adjusting," I replied, trying to stay calm. "I'll talk to her, okay?"

Emma was struggling too. She kept to herself most days, staying in her room or helping out around the house. But I could see she felt out of place. One evening, she asked me, "Am I causing problems between you and Jazmin?"

"No, of course not," I assured her, even though I knew things were getting strained. "Jazmin's just tired. It's not you."

But things kept getting worse. There was tension in the house that I couldn't ignore.

Then, one day, I noticed some money missing from the kitchen counter. I had left $50 there, but it was gone. I was puzzled and brought it up to Jazmin.

"Did you see any money on the counter?" I asked her casually.

She looked up from her book, eyebrows raised. "No, I didn't. Why?"

"I had some cash there, and now it's missing," I said, trying to sound neutral.

"Maybe Emma took it," Jazmin suggested lightly, not looking up. "She's young, Sam. She might have needed it for something and didn't want to ask."

I was taken aback. "What? Emma wouldn't do that."

Jazmin shrugged. "I'm just saying, she's been through a lot. Maybe she thought she'd pay it back later."

I didn't want to believe it, but the money was gone, and there was no other explanation that made sense at the time. I decided to ask Emma about it, even though it felt wrong.

"Emma," I said later that day, finding her in her room. "Did you see any money on the counter? I'm missing some."

She looked at me, her eyes wide with surprise. "No, Sam. I didn't take anything."

"Are you sure?" I pressed gently, feeling awful but needing to know.

Emma's face fell. "You really think I'd steal from you?" Her voice was small, hurt. "I wouldn't do that, Sam."

"I'm not accusing you," I said quickly, but the damage was done. She looked crushed, and I felt like the worst person in the world.

Now, sitting here with the money in my hand, I felt that same crushing guilt. It was here, all along. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to make sense of it. I needed to talk to Jazmin, but I didn't even know where to start.

A few minutes later, I heard Jazmin's car pulling into the driveway. My heart started racing. I shoved the money back under the books and walked out to the living room, my mind still spinning. The door opened, and she stepped inside, smiling at me like everything was normal.

"Hey, babe," she said, setting down her bag. "What's up?"

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "We need to talk."

Her smile faded a little. "What's wrong?"

I took a deep breath. "I found the money. The money that went missing. It was in your closet."

Her eyes widened, and she looked genuinely confused for a moment. "What are you talking about?"

"The money, Jaz," I said, my voice rising. "The fifty dollars that went missing two months ago. And the hundred dollars after that. I just found it under your books."

She blinked, then her face changed. "Oh, that money." She let out a nervous laugh. "I must have put it there and forgotten about it."

I shook my head, feeling anger rise in my chest. "You forgot about two hundred dollars?"

"Sam, I'm pregnant," she snapped, her voice defensive. "I'm tired and stressed all the time. I can't remember everything!"

I stared at her, my heart breaking. "You let me think Emma took it. You let me blame my own sister for stealing from us."

Jaz wiped at her eyes, looking away. "I know. I just... I felt so alone. Like I was losing you."

I stood there, feeling a mix of rage and sadness. "You didn't lose me, Jaz. But you made me lose her."

I turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind me. I couldn't be around her right now. I needed to see Emma.

Emma was staying at our middle sister's house, just a few miles away. I drove over there, barely noticing the time passing. My hands gripped the steering wheel tight as I tried to figure out what to say to her.

When I knocked on the door, my sister Laura answered, looking surprised. "Sam? What are you doing here?"

"I need to see Emma," I said, my voice rough.

She nodded, stepping aside. "She's in her room."

I found Emma sitting on the bed, a book in her hands. She looked up when I entered, her expression guarded. "Hey," she said quietly.

"Hey," I replied, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Can we talk?"

She nodded slowly, setting her book aside. "Sure."

I sat down beside her, staring at my hands. "Emma, I'm so sorry. I should have never doubted you. I should have believed you."

She didn't say anything, just watched me with those big, sad eyes. I took a deep breath and continued.

"I found the money," I said. "It was hidden in Jazmin's closet. She... she let me think you took it."

Emma's eyes widened. "What? Why would she do that?"

"She was jealous," I admitted, hating how weak it sounded. "She was scared I was spending too much time with you, that I wasn't paying enough attention to her. It doesn't make it right, but... that's what happened."

Emma looked down at her hands, silent. "So she just made me look like a thief to get rid of me?"

"Yeah," I whispered. "And I'm so, so sorry. I let you down. Can you forgive me?"

She was quiet for a long time. Finally, she sighed and nodded. "Yeah, Sam. I can forgive you. But I'm not coming back if she's going to treat me like that."

"I understand," I said quickly. "But I want you to come back. I want us to try again. I'll make sure it's different this time."

She studied my face, searching for something. "Okay," she said at last. "But only if she apologizes."

"I promise she will," I said, feeling a spark of hope.

We got back to the house later that afternoon. I helped Emma bring her things inside, my heart pounding as I waited for Jazmin to come home. When she walked through the door and saw Jaz standing there, her face turned red.

"What is she doing here?" she snapped, looking between us.

I held up a hand. "Jaz, calm down. We need to talk."

"I'm pregnant, Sam! I don't need this stress!"

"You're pregnant, not out of your mind. You could've talked to me. But instead, you turned me against Emma. I won't let you come between us again. We're family. Emma is staying here until Mom gets better. Now, go apologize."

"Sam, if it's too much for Jaz, I can stay with our sister," Emma said softly.

Jazmin's eyes filled with tears. She nodded slowly. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll try. I'll do better."

I sat on the bed, holding the money in my hand again. It felt different this time. Instead of anger and confusion, I felt a sense of calm.

Slowly, I got up and walked over to it. I pulled the stack of books off the shelf and slid the envelope back into the same spot where I'd found it weeks ago. It felt right, somehow, to put it back there.

"Guess this will be my little stash," I murmured to myself, smiling a bit. "Maybe for a rainy day or a surprise."

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This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.