But Grandpa wasn’t done. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a check. “This is for you,” he said.
I stared at it. “Fifteen thousand dollars? Grandpa, I can’t—”
“And you will. It’s not a gift. That’s your money.
Every dollar you paid in rent—I made your father pay it back.”
My eyes widened. “You made him?”
Grandpa’s jaw clenched. “He had no right to take your money.
That house? It’s not his. It’s mine.
I gave it to your parents when they married, the same way I’m offering you this apartment now. After your mom passed, I let your dad and Sharon stay because they were family. But it was never theirs to take from you.”
I felt sick.
“All this time,” I whispered, “they made me pay rent… for a house that didn’t even belong to them?”
While they sat back and took your money. They used my help to live comfortably while making you struggle.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s… unbelievable.”
“Selfish people do that,” he said, voice cold.
“But today, they learned something. Greed has consequences.”
And right then, something changed inside me. I wasn’t sad anymore.
I was angry. I packed my bags that night and moved into the cozy apartment Grandpa gave me. He even bought me a brand-new fridge and stove.
For the first time in years, I felt like I could finally breathe. But the drama wasn’t over yet. Three days later, my phone rang.
“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”
I pulled the phone away from my ear. “You humiliated your father!” she continued. “You’re selfish!
Do you even know what you’ve done?!”
I took a deep breath. “Oh, I know,” I said coolly. “I finally stood up for myself.
If you and Dad feel humiliated, that’s on you. You did this to yourselves.”
There was a pause… and then a click. She hung up.
I stared at my phone, waiting to feel guilty. But I didn’t. Not even a little.
A few days later, Grandpa and I were having lunch. He stirred his coffee and smiled. “Sharon called me too,” he said calmly.
“Tried to talk me into taking everything back. Said you were manipulating me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What did you say?”
He chuckled.
“I said, ‘That girl is my daughter’s child. And I will always choose her over you.’”
A lump formed in my throat. “Thanks, Grandpa,” I whispered.
He reached over and squeezed my hand. “Always.”
I wish that had been the end of it. But life isn’t neat.
I kept my distance from Dad and Sharon. I couldn’t forgive them—not yet. But I didn’t want drama either.
I stayed focused on my studies, worked hard, and started building the life I wanted. The hardest part was Mia. She called me a week after I moved out, crying softly.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she whispered. “It’s not fair.”
“I know, Mi,” I said, my throat tight. “I know.”
I wanted to promise I’d come back.
That things would go back to the way they used to be. But I couldn’t lie to her. Instead, I said, “No matter what happens, I’m still your sister.
Always.”
And I meant it. Because some people will put a price on family. But others?
Others show you what real family means. And thanks to Grandpa—I finally understood the difference.
