Natalie told me to drive, and I did. She directed me away from the venue, past two stoplights, to a small diner where her aunt worked the night shift. Over pie and coffee, she laid out everything. She had copied the real ledger from her father’s home computer, and she had a second paper showing the true totals. He had skimmed nearly ninety thousand dollars, and the forged initials were prepared to land on me when the auditors arrived.

Her aunt, a retired bookkeeper, read the ledger twice and said quietly that it was enough. By midnight, they had called a lawyer, a woman named Ms. Chen, who agreed to meet us at dawn. I was shaking, partly from fear and partly from relief that I had not signed anything. Natalie squeezed my hand and said she was sorry she had been so cold in the car. She had been terrified I was in on it.

The lawyer reported the fraud to the authorities the next morning. Auditors arrived that week and found that Gordon had hidden the cash in a second business account. He tried to blame me, but the forged signature was clearly not mine, and Natalie’s copy of the real ledger proved it. He was arrested and later pleaded guilty to embezzlement and forgery. The company’s partners offered me a manager’s position, with a fair raise, and an apology.

I used the extra income to help Mom and my sister, and I started night classes in accounting. Natalie went to college in the fall, and we write often. At her graduation, she gave me a small framed photograph of the two of us outside the prom venue. Under it she wrote: “Thank you for driving.” I keep it on my desk, and whenever anyone says a favor is just a favor, I smile.