Boom.
Hope soared high but ca crashing down. The entire theater was filled with shock, anxiety, and nervousness, all blending with a sense of disappointnt that fell like a free-fall drop from great heights.
Where was the promised happy ending? The classic Hollywood-style conclusion?
They thought they had figured out Steven Spielberg's tricks, believing they had predicted the plot, only to be surprised again and again. The story defied their expectations, plunging them into despair repeatedly. Their hearts nearly burst as they stared at the screen in disbelief, completely losing the ability to think.
The cara focused on Carl's face.
Carl paused slightly, staring ahead, trying his best to hide the disappointnt in his eyes—but he couldn't completely conceal it.
He wasn't as confident and certain as he had claid.
Despite trying to trust young Frank, things weren't that simple. At that mont, Carl couldn't help but wonder if he had misjudged the situation.
His eyelids drooped, trying to suppress the torrent of emotions, but the sadness lingered in his voice.
"There's a forged check on Agent Rath's desk. Let's go take a look."
Carl's disappointnt spread to the audience in the theater. No one expected a plot twist like this right when the story seed to be heading toward a happy ending.
The FBI agents crowded around Rath's desk, packed tightly in several layers.
Carl returned to his professional self, using a magnifying glass to examine the check carefully.
"Every line has been emphasized. It looks like the original amount was sixty dollars."
Suddenly, a hand appeared, taking the magnifying glass from Carl. "Mind if I take a look?"
Carl looked up, stunned—
Buzz. Buzz-buzz-buzz.
lvin's heart jumped into his throat, nearly letting out a shout. He barely managed to control himself.
The next mont.
Young Frank appeared on the big screen.
Boom!
The theater erupted in noise and excitent. So people even pumped their fists in the air, the rollercoaster of emotions finally giving way to joy and happiness. The overwhelming exhilaration exploded, spreading like wildfire. It shattered the fourth wall, blending reality and fiction.
Frank had appeared, and in the end, he didn't let them down.
There was no grand entrance, no suspense. He simply appeared, almost casually, but that's what made the mont even more electrifying for the audience.
The entire theater was abuzz, yet young Frank, in his navy blue suit, seed calm and composed, effortlessly charming. There was no frustration, no fatigue on his face—just a serene confidence that commanded attention.
Carl spoke, "It was cashed in Flagstaff, a week ago."
A small city in northern Arizona.
Young Frank nodded slightly and began studying the check with the magnifying glass.
The cara zood back to Carl.
Even though Carl maintained his calm deanor, watching young Frank, you could see a hint of relief in his eyes.
"The bank lost sixteen thousand dollars." A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, softening his expression.
Young Frank tilted his head. "It's a real check."
Carl responded, "Yes. It's been washed."
At this, the other agents gathered around the desk dispersed, including Agent Rath himself, and the scene opened up.
"Only the signature remains."
Frank added, "But it's perfect. Carl, really. I an, it wasn't done with acid or bleach."
"No," Carl said, the smile now fully spreading across his face. "It's sothing new. Maybe a nail polish remover or acetone to erase the ink."
Frank didn't answer, fully focused on the check.
Carl hesitated for a mont but couldn't resist asking, "How did you do it, Frank? How did you cheat and pass the Louisiana Bar Exam?"
By now, the tone had softened, no longer a harsh interrogation. It felt more like friendly conversation, tinged with curiosity.
Frank paused his examination of the check and looked up at Carl, eting his gaze. Then, a small smile crept up.
"I didn't cheat."
"I studied for two weeks. Then I passed the exam."
Carl's smile faltered for a second. "Is that true, Frank?"
Frank just smiled.
"Is it true?"
Frank didn't evade the question, looking Carl straight in the eye. He picked up the check and said, "I bet this guy stole the checks from the mailbox, washed off their nas, and replaced them with his own."
Carl didn't press the issue. "So, you're saying he's a local?"
The cara focused on Frank, lingering on his handso face.
Then.
The scene cut to a wide shot of Frank and Carl sitting across from each other at the desk. The cara zood out, and the voices of their conversation slowly faded into the background music as the credits began to roll.
"Young Frank Abagnale has been married for twenty-six years and has three sons. He now leads a quiet life in the Midwest.
Since his release from prison in 1974, Frank has helped the FBI capture so of the world's most elusive check forgers and is regarded as one of the top anti-fraud experts in the world.
Frank has also designed security checks used by banks and Fortune 500 companies.
These companies pay Frank Abagnale millions of dollars in fees each year.
Frank and Carl remain close friends to this day."
The movie ends.
The credits roll slowly as the swelling music continues to build in the darkness, stirring the emotions.
lvin sat quietly, unmoving.
Even though he knew it was just a movie—a lighthearted and humorous one at that—and he knew it was a true story, though embellished and altered for artistic effect, he still couldn't stop the surge of excitent.
A legendary life, even after the end of the criminal journey, continued to be legendary. Those few words in the credits couldn't possibly cover all the twists and turns between 1974 and 2002. Reality was always more incredible than movies or novels, shattering expectations with ease.
Yet what mattered more was that in the end, young Frank and Carl, after all the chasing and running, found sothing like a "family." Maybe Frank couldn't save the Abagnale family, or even see his father one last ti, but he found his harbor and, eventually, stopped running.
That boy, with a smile like Apollo's, who ran from the harshness of life with all his might, who built a world of lies to armor himself and got lost in that lonely world—he finally found a warm place to rest.
That was the key.
In the darkness, lvin's blood raced, and he could no longer hold back. He stood up abruptly.
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