[How about this—once the old house gets demolished, we'll get a nice chunk of money, right?]
So when the time comes, I'll get a few apartments too. I'll sell them and pay you back that $50,000—principal plus interest. Fair enough?
So he already knew about the redevelopment.
They'd been scheming this all along.
My fingers flew across the screen. No more playing nice.
Jarvis, don't bother waiting for the redevelopment.
Keep the $50,000. Consider it the price of a lesson learned.
And stop calling me "sis." I don't have a brother like you.
Oh, and just so you know—Grandpa's house has nothing to do with your family. Not a single cent.
I hit send, then blocked him.
Then I pulled up Uncle Oliver and Aunt Vivien's numbers and blocked those too.
I drove straight to the office. That $50,000 was a write-off now—bad debt, emotionally and financially. What came next would be the real battle.
The call from reception came barely an hour into the afternoon shift. The receptionist's voice wavered.
"Director Finch, there are some people downstairs claiming to be your relatives. They're causing a scene in the lobby."