A ghost

The bank was locked. I saw motionless people inside. Suddenly a heavy bag broke the glass door. A heavyset faceless man crashed through. I stood like a statue. He ran to an awaiting Audi. I could see the young female pretty driver. I'd seen her before. Why would a bank robber be driving an Audi?

"Too poor to eat," these two were not. Weeks later I saw her. My whole bank account financed her outfit. She was teaching an investment class. I laughed in disgust, silently taking her handouts. I would not invest with her, she would most likely skim my account.

The policeman listened. He looked up her public information., She had no police record. Her taxes- she had a billionaires income, No charities. Her boyfriend was thin and fit. Not the bulky man I had seen. The police bugged her phone, installed fake clients- who inflintrated her social network.

I doubted she would recognize me. I was a ghost. Months later, my doorbell rang. I answered it to find a gun in my face. She was shaking. I pressed the alarm, turning on the camera. She collapsed, cried and ran.

I sighed, I had not been a ghost