05
65%
I yanked the door open, catching Miranda off guard, and she stumbled face–first at my feet.
“Aunt Miranda, such a grand gesture isn’t necessary,” I said, looking down at her.
I couldn’t help but remember how, when I lay helpless in a hospital bed, she had forced me
to sign my house over to Maggie as “compensation“.
She didn’t deserve to be called family.
“Lina, you’re out of line!” Miranda blustered, aiming to slap me.
But I was faster, breaking into loud sobs. “Aunt Miranda, this house is the only thing my
parents left me. I won’t give it to you.”
Her eyes widened in shock as she realized I was onto her true intentions.
Miranda stammered, “Wha… what are you talking about? There’s no such thing!”
“Is that so? Uncle Vincent’s business failed, and you plugged the hole with this money. Not
only did you want to withhold Maggie’s gift money, but you also intended to pin the blame on
me,” I retorted, laying bare the entire plot in a few sentences, shutting down her plans.
I continued, “Uncle Vincent’s business is a bottomless pit. I’ve already lent him my savings.
This house stays with me.”
I unceremoniously dropped to the floor in a pitiful heap.
Now, she couldn’t morally browbeat me into compliance.
Defeated, Miranda slunk away.
I posted the wedding video and the recent recording online, including the investigation
results of the money’s whereabouts.
I shared it in the family group chat, too, titling it: [Where Did the Disappearing Gift Money Go?]
I should take the initiative so as to flush out the snakes and prevent a gossip storm.
While I was shopping, Logan somehow tracked me down.
“You ungrateful b*tch!” Logan snarled, wild–eyed, brandishing a bat at my head.
His eyes were murderous. He wasn’t just angry; he meant to kill me.
The bat swung closer, death beckoning, and I found myself frozen in place, unable to move.
“Stop!”
Rachel barreled into Logan, knocking him aside.
She looked shaken, her fear barely contained.
“Logan, what on earth are you doing?” Rachel demanded, appalled.
The bat had missed me by a hair, leaving my ear stinging. I touched it gingerly, still shocked.
I muse, “What have I done that Maggie would rather have me dead? Had I not been with Rachel today, would I be facing death again?”
I decided it was time to hasten my plans. I couldn’t keep living like this, always looking over my shoulder.
