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Brother Sold My Mountain Cabin To Fund His Foundation — The IRS Director Attended My Gala
‪@RevengeReturn-s3n‬

The email arrived at 7:14 AM on a Wednesday.
I was in Manhattan preparing for the annual Children's Hospital Foundation gala—the one where I served as board treasurer—when my phone buzzed with an escrow notification. "Wire instructions for property at 4782 Alpine Ridge Road, Lake Tahoe. Closing scheduled Monday, March 18th. Seller proceeds: $580,000. Please confirm routing information within 48 hours."
I read it three times sitting at my desk in the foundation's Fifth Avenue office.
I'd never authorized a sale. I'd never listed the property. The Lake Tahoe cabin had been mine for six years, purchased outright for $420,000, a sanctuary I escaped to monthly when nonprofit work became overwhelming.
I opened my email and scrolled back. Fifteen messages over the past week that I'd missed while organizing the gala. An escrow company. A real estate attorney. A home inspector. A buyer's agent requesting my move-out date.
And one from my brother Eric, sent to our family group chat Sunday evening: "Exciting news! Karen finally agreed to sell that cabin she never uses. Closing Monday. The money's going to fund my youth mentorship foundation. So proud to see her supporting meaningful work for once."
Sixty-two responses. My mother: "Finally putting that property to good use!" My father: "Good to see you supporting your brother's vision." My aunt: "Eric's foundation is going to change lives."
I hadn't spoken to Eric in fourteen months, not since he'd asked to "borrow" $85,000 for his "nonprofit launch" and I'd declined. Before that, it was $40,000 for "program development." Before that, $55,000 for "facility deposits."
I'd learned years ago that Eric's "foundation" existed primarily on Instagram, with impressive photos and zero financial transparency.
I took screenshots of everything. I'd been documenting Eric's financial schemes since I was nineteen when he'd stolen $12,000 from my savings account to fund a "youth center" that never opened, then convinced our parents I'd given it to him willingly.
Then I did something Eric would never anticipate: I walked down the hall to the foundation director's office and knocked.





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