Chapter 3 - The Key Exchange
Five minutes passed in heavy, suffocating silence inside the study. Mom stood near the corner of the room, her arms tightly crossed, staring out the darkened window into the backyard, refusing to look at either Grandpa or me.
Finally, Ava walked back into the room.
Her eyes were red and puffy, her lip trembling. In her hand, she clutched the sleek black key fob attached to a designer leather keychain she had bought for herself.
"Give them to your sister, Ava," Grandpa instructed softly.
Ava stepped toward me. For the first time in our lives, she wasn't looking at me with her usual smug, victorious expression. She looked defeated, exposed, and deeply humiliated.
She held out her hand, dropping the heavy key fob into my open palm.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Ava spat out bitterly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Are you happy now, Amelia? You ruined Sunday dinner! You made Grandpa hate me!"
"Amelia didn't ruin dinner, Ava," Grandpa said before I could even open my mouth. "Your greed and your mother’s enabling ruined dinner. And we are not finished."
Ava blinked, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "What do you mean?"
Grandpa opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a clean sheet of paper, along with a sleek silver pen.
"Over the past two weeks, Amelia has spent $640 on Uber rides to get to and from her job," Grandpa stated, reading from a notepad beside his computer. "Furthermore, the vehicle telemetry shows you drove 1,200 miles, consumed four full tanks of premium gasoline, and based on the valet receipts logged at the Grand Regency Hotel, you spent money that wasn't yours."
"I used my own credit card for the valet!" Ava protested defensively.
"The credit card your mother pays for every month?" Grandpa countered instantly, raising an eyebrow.
Mom turned around from the window, her voice rising in protest. "Dad! She’s twenty-two! She’s trying to build a career in event planning! She needs to present a certain lifestyle to get high-end clients!"
"If she cannot afford the lifestyle, she cannot afford the career, Evelyn," Grandpa replied coldly. He slid the sheet of paper and the silver pen across the desk toward Ava.
"What is this?" Ava asked, eyeing the paper suspiciously.
"That is a promissory note," Grandpa explained. "It outlines a repayment schedule. You will pay Amelia $640 for her transit expenses over the past two weeks. You will also pay $350 to cover the fuel and detailing fee required to clean the food waste and trash you left inside her vehicle."
Ava gasped. "Nearly a thousand dollars?! I don't have that kind of money!"
"Then I suggest you find a part-time job that doesn't involve leaning against other people's property taking photos for Instagram," Grandpa said without a trace of sympathy. "Sign the paper, Ava. Or tomorrow morning, I will instruct my corporate legal team to file a formal civil claim against you for unauthorized use of a motor vehicle."
Mom gasped, clutching her throat. "Dad! You would sue your own granddaughter?!"
"I would enforce accountability on a family that has lacked it for twenty years," Grandpa answered flatly. "Sign it, Ava."
Shaking violently, Ava grabbed the silver pen and scribbled her signature at the bottom of the document.
"Now," Grandpa said, taking the paper back and placing it neatly into a folder. "Amelia, go outside, inspect your vehicle, and take it home."
"Thank you, Grandpa," I said quietly.
I picked up the key fob, turned around, and walked out of the study.
As I opened the heavy oak front door of my grandfather’s house and stepped out onto the porch, the cool evening air hit my face. Parked at the bottom of the long brick driveway was my white SUV, gleaming under the tall estate lamps.
I walked down the steps, unlocked the driver's door with a soft beep, and sat down behind the wheel.
The interior still had that rich, beautiful leather scent, though it was slightly ruined by the smell of stale french fries and cheap perfume. I looked at the digital odometer on the dashboard: 1,248 miles.
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I started the engine. The powerful V6 purred smoothly into life.
I adjusted the mirrors, backed down the brick driveway, and drove out onto the main road, leaving the estate—and my family's crumbling illusion—far behind in the rearview mirror.
