I am 69 years old. Every month my son sends money, but I never receive anything — I secretly investigated, and the bank’s security cameras left the whole family speechless.

I’m 69 years old. Every month my son sends money, but I never receive anything—I secretly investigated, and the bank’s security cameras left the whole family speechless…

It’s strange. It’s been almost a year and I haven’t received a single penny. I still depend on my government pension, which barely covers the basics.

I’m 69 years old, and although my youngest son deposits money into my account every month, I never see a cent. I secretly investigated… and the bank’s security cameras left my whole family speechless.

Since my husband died, I’ve been living with my eldest son and daughter-in-law in our modest house in the state.

My youngest son—Jun—works abroad. Since he left, he always calls me and says:

“Mom, don’t worry. Every month I’ll send money to your account. Use it for your expenses, for whatever you need.”

Those words gave me peace.

But almost a year has passed… and I haven’t seen a single penny. I still live alone on my senior citizen’s pension.

Every time I asked, my daughter-in-law would say,

“Grandma, you’re getting old… you hardly spend anything. We take care of you.”

It sounded sweet… it sounded sincere…
but something inside me had been restless for months.

One day, I decided to call Jun.

“Son, is something wrong? Why haven’t I received anything you send?”

He froze.

“What do you mean, nothing? Mom, I deposit it every month! They even call me from the bank to confirm! Please check again.”

I felt like my blood was draining from my veins.

If he was sending the money… then who was taking it?

The next day I went to the bank and asked for a statement.
The clerk checked it and said in a low voice,

“Gran, the money does come in every month… but then it’s withdrawn from the ATM.”

My legs went weak. I don’t even know how to use an ATM.

I asked to see the security camera footage.

When they played the video… I felt like my heart sank.

The person withdrawing the money…
was my daughter-in-law.

So calm… pulling out stacks of bills… as if they were hers.

I printed everything:
screenshots, videos, bank statement.

That night I called my son and daughter-in-law to the table.

I put the papers in front of them.

“This is the money Jun has sent me…
for a whole year.
But I never received a penny.
Look… here’s the proof.”

My oldest son opened the folder.

When he saw his wife’s image on the screen… he went pale.

With a broken voice, he asked her:

“Is this true?
Is that you?”

My daughter-in-law fell to her knees, crying uncontrollably.

“Forgive me, Mom… forgive me, love…
Greed got the better of me. I saw how much money Jun was sending and I thought you were saving it for him, for when he came back…
And we were struggling so much!
That’s why I did it… that’s why I took the money…”

His words hurt me more than anything.

Not because of the money…
but because of the betrayal.

My son slammed his fist on the table, filled with rage.

“You messed with my mother! How could you?”

I grabbed his arm, crying.

“There… calm down, son. Money can be replaced.
But when a family is broken… that wound never heals.
I only ask one thing:
Be honest.
Don’t let money destroy what’s most precious.”

The whole house fell silent.

My daughter-in-law wept uncontrollably.

My son clenched his fists, ashamed.

The next day, my daughter-in-law returned all the money and promised she would never do it again.

I forgave her…
but the wound remained.

Those images from the bank… I will never forget them.

A scar on my heart.

A scar made by betrayal.

I learned something:

anyone can change for money.

I don’t hold onto hatred.

But I don’t forget either.