Chapter 12: The Second Fox

Monday Night, Week 9

Marcus was different in the lab today. For weeks he has been quiet, doing our experiments carefully and saying very little, the way people are when they are carrying something heavy inside. Today he was humming. He drew little faces on our test tube labels again. Halfway through the practical, while we waited for the samples to warm up, he said, "Tess, I think I might get my money back."

I should explain, for the future me who reads this, that Marcus did something brave last week. Under a video that was still promoting the platform he lost his savings to, he wrote a public comment. He wrote that the platform had taken his money and asked for fees before he could withdraw, and that nobody should put money into it. He did it so that other students would not lose what he lost.

Two days later, a message arrived for him. He showed it to me on his phone under the lab bench. It came from a "recovery service". The message said that they had seen his comment, that they were "deeply sorry" for what had happened to him, and that they specialised in getting money back from fraudulent platforms. It said they had "already traced" his platform and had "legal access" to the accounts where his money was. There was a picture of a smiling team in suits, and a list of happy people who had "recovered everything".

There was one more part, near the bottom, written very politely. To begin the work, Marcus would have to pay a "case opening fee" in advance. It was about two weeks of his rent. The message said the fee would be "returned in full" once his money was recovered, and that the special offer for "victims of this platform" would close on Friday.

Marcus looked at me with such hope that I did not know what to say. I wanted it to be true. I really did. For a few seconds I imagined telling Grandma that Marcus had got his savings back, and how happy he would be, and how he could stop worrying about rent and sleep properly again. I wanted it so much that it frightened me a little. Then I heard myself ask, very quietly, "Who says so?"

Marcus's face closed. He said, "You always have a question, Tess." Then he looked at his test tubes for a while and said, "Sorry, you're right to ask. It's just that I want it so much." We agreed on two things before the lab ended: he will not pay anything before Thursday, and on Thursday we will go together to see Ms Okafor at the student money advice office. He sent her an email from the bench. It would have been so much easier to just say, "That's wonderful."

Wednesday, Week 9

Last night Marcus called me at half past ten. His voice was shaking. He had just had a phone call from a woman who said she worked for the official office that supervises banks and investment firms. She knew his full name. She knew the name of the platform. She even knew roughly how much he had put into it. She said that his case had been "registered", that the office had "located and frozen" his money, and that it could be "released" to him within days.

Then came the rest. Before the money could be released, Marcus would need to pay a "release tax", and because the investigation was "confidential", he must not discuss it with his bank or with anyone else, as this could "delay the case". She gave him a reference number and a phone number to call back. She said she would phone again at noon today for his answer.

Marcus said, "She knew everything, Tess. How could she know all that if she wasn't real?" That question stopped me too. I did not have an answer last night. I only knew that the shape was the same as the "unlocking fee" in week 1: money taken out of his pocket before money is put back in. I asked him to do nothing and to meet me in the library at nine in the morning. Neither of us slept much, I think.

This morning we did the check together, and I want to write it down step by step, because it was so simple that it surprised me. We did not use the phone number the woman had given him. We did not search for the office's name and press the first result either, because sometimes the first results are advertisements. I opened the website of the official office using the address I saved on my phone two weeks ago, and we found the page called "Contact us". The phone number was printed there, on the office's own page, and it was different from the one the woman had given Marcus.

Marcus called that number from the library steps, with me standing next to him. He explained everything, with the phone on speaker so I could hear. The person at the office was calm and clear. She said that the office had not called him. She said that the office does not collect money from the public to return lost money, never asks for a fee or a "tax" for this, and never tells anyone to keep a matter secret from their own bank. She said that calls like the one Marcus had received happen often, that he had done exactly the right thing by calling them himself, and she took a note of what had happened.

Marcus sat down on the steps after the call. He did not say anything for a minute. Then he said, "So it's the same people again, isn't it? Or their friends." I said I did not know who they were, but that I knew who they were not. They were not the office.

At noon, his phone rang with the number from last night. He did not answer it. He blocked the number. Then he called the police, on the number for non-urgent matters that he found himself, and added the call and the "recovery service" message to the report he already made in week 1. He saved screenshots of everything in the folder on his laptop called "Platform" that he has kept since the "unlocking fee". He said the folder is getting very full, and he almost smiled.

Thursday, Week 9

We saw Ms Okafor this afternoon. She made us both tea, listened to the whole story without interrupting, and read the "recovery service" message on Marcus's phone. When we had finished, she nodded slowly. She said, "You both did this very well. Marcus, you didn't pay, you checked with the office yourself, and you told the police. That is exactly right."

Then she explained something that I had not understood before. She said that people who have been deceived once are often contacted again, sometimes by the same people using a new name, sometimes by others. The second contact is often a "recovery" offer or someone pretending to be from an official office, a bank or the police. "They know you have lost money," Ms Okafor said, "and they know you want it back. They are not choosing you because you're foolish. They're choosing you because you're hurt, and because you've already shown you're willing to pay."

Marcus asked the question he had asked me on the phone: how could the woman know his name, the platform and the amount? Ms Okafor did not go into any details, and I was glad. She only said that when someone has been deceived, the details they gave the first time do not disappear. They can be used again. "Knowing your details is not proof that someone is real," she said. "Sometimes it is proof of the opposite."

She told us one simple rule that she wants every student to know. Real official offices, the police and banks do not ask you to pay a fee to get your own money back. They do not ask you to keep it secret from your bank. They do not put a deadline on helping you. "Real help moves slowly sometimes," she said, "but it never asks you to hurry and pay." If Marcus ever wants to pay for professional help, for example from a qualified lawyer, he should find one himself through the official list of that profession where he lives, and never use someone who contacted him first.

Then Ms Okafor put her cup down and asked Marcus, quite gently, how he was sleeping. Marcus said, "Not very well." She asked whether he was eating properly and whether he had someone to talk to about how he felt, not just about the money. Marcus looked at me and said, "I've got Tess and her questions." Ms Okafor smiled, but she also wrote down the details of the university's support services for him and said that a loss like this can weigh on a person for a long time, and that talking to someone trained to listen is a strong thing to do, not a weak one. Marcus said he would book a time, and I saw him book it before we left the building.

Walking back to the residence, Marcus said, "I almost paid twice. The first fox and then the second one." I said, "But you didn't pay the second one." He said, "Because you asked who says so, and because I hate that question." Then he laughed, properly, for the first time in weeks. We bought chips and ate them on a low wall outside the library, and it was one of the nicest evenings of the term.

Grandma's Fable: The Second Fox

At the edge of a beech wood there lived a rabbit who had worked hard all autumn. She had gathered carrots from the field by the river, one at a time, and stored them in a hollow under the roots of an old tree. By the first frost the hollow was full, and she knew that her family would not be hungry that winter.

One evening a fox with a red tail came to her door. He was so charming and so interested in her store that she showed him where it was. That night, while she slept, the hollow was emptied. In the morning she found nothing there but a few red hairs. She sat beside the empty hollow and cried.

On the second day, a different fox came walking along the path. He had a grey patch on his chest and a gentle voice. "I heard what happened to you," he said, and he sighed. "That red fox is a disgrace to all foxes. But I know where he hides what he steals. For three of your carrots, only three, to pay for my long journey, I will bring back every carrot he took."

The rabbit had only seven carrots left, hidden in her own bed. Three was a great deal. But all the others were a great deal more. She turned to go and fetch them. Then, at her own door, she stopped. She thought, "The red fox knew where my store was because I showed him. How does this grey fox know about me, and about my carrots, and about my door?"

She told the grey fox that she would bring the carrots in the morning. Then, when he had gone, she walked to the far side of the wood, to the old badger who had kept the peace there for many years. Everyone knew where his home was.

The badger listened to her whole story. Then he said, "When something is stolen in this wood, I help to look for it, and I have never asked anyone for a carrot to do it. Nor has anyone honest." He scratched his grey chin. "And a fox who knows exactly what you lost and exactly where you live has been talking to other foxes."

The next morning the grey fox waited by the path. The rabbit did not come. Instead, the old badger came walking slowly down the path, and the grey fox suddenly remembered that he had business on the other side of the hill.

The rabbit's carrots did not come back that winter. But she kept her seven, the badger's family shared their roots with her, and in the spring she began to gather again.

Sunday Night, Week 9

I told Grandma the whole week before she told me the fable, and afterwards I sat on my bed for a long time with the phone in my lap. The part I keep thinking about is the rabbit stopping at her own door. She had already decided. She was on her way to get the carrots. And then one question came, almost too late: how does this fox know about me? That is the question Marcus asked me on Tuesday night, "How could she know all that if she wasn't real?" The rabbit turned the same question the other way round.

I also liked that the carrots did not come back. Grandma did not make the ending happy in a false way. Marcus does not know whether any of his money will come back, and the bank and the police are still looking at his case. But the rabbit kept her last seven carrots, and she was not alone. That is what this week was, really. Marcus kept what he had left, and he was not alone.

I tried to think about what the people behind the "recovery service" want, and what they are afraid of. They want the hope, because hope makes people pay quickly. And they are afraid of one phone call: the call Marcus made from the library steps, to a number he found himself. That is why the woman told him to keep it "confidential" and not to talk to his bank. Secrecy was not there to protect Marcus. It was there to protect them.

Grandma said only one thing at the end. She said, "The second fox is usually kinder than the first. That is how you know him." I wrote that down, and then I sent it to Marcus, who answered with a picture of a fox and a very rude face, which I think means he agrees.

What I Checked This Week

This week I checked a "recovery service" that offered to get Marcus's money back for a fee in advance, and a phone call from someone claiming to work for an official office. Both of them came after Marcus had already lost money. I have learned that people who were deceived once are often targeted again, and that the second contact often looks like help.

The way to check is to find the office's contact details myself and call them. I do not use the phone number, email address, link or reference number that the caller or the message gives me. I open the official office's own website by an address I already know or have saved, or I use the details printed on an official letter I received before, and I call the number listed there. If the real office says it did not contact me, then whoever contacted me was not the office, however much they knew.

Knowing my name, the platform's name and the amount I lost is not proof that someone is real. Those details may come from the first scam. A smiling team in a picture, a list of happy people and an official-sounding reference number are not proof either. They are only things that anyone can write.

Real official offices, the police and banks do not ask for a fee to get your money back. They do not ask for a "tax" or a "release fee" in advance. They do not tell you to keep things secret from your bank, and they do not set deadlines on helping you. Any one of those things is a warning sign. If I ever wanted to pay for professional help, I would find a qualified professional myself, through the official list of that profession where I live, and never use someone who found me first.

And if a loss is making it hard to sleep, eat or study, the money is not the only thing that needs looking after. Talking to someone trusted, a doctor or the university's support services is part of getting better. Ms Okafor said that, and I believe her, because I saw Marcus laugh on Thursday.

Things to Talk About as a Family

This is where Tess's diary pauses for the week. Marcus had already lost money, and the offer to get it back reached him exactly where he was most hurt. That is why "recovery" offers can be so hard to refuse, for anyone at any age. What protected him was a phone call to a number he found himself, a friend who asked a question at the right moment, and an adviser who reminded him that being targeted again is never a sign of foolishness.

Here are some questions to talk about together. If someone in your family lost money, how would you want the others to react, and what would make it easier to tell them? Why might a person who has just lost money find a "recovery" offer more believable than someone who has not? And where would each of you find the real contact details of your bank or an official office, without using any number that someone else gives you?

Here is one small thing to try together. Write down, on a piece of paper kept at home, where each person in the family would find the real phone number of their bank (for example, on the back of their card) and how they would reach the official offices in your country through a website they find themselves. Then agree on one family promise: anyone who is contacted about getting lost money back will talk to someone in the family before answering, and nobody will be blamed for asking.