Jay, who had been quiet, set down his fork with a sharp clink.
He stood slowly, but his words came with quiet authority.
Amber blinked, caught off guard.
“That fund was for Robert,” Jay said evenly. “And just so we’re clear, Steven had his own account. Equal contributions. One for each grandson. Because we believe in fairness.”
Amber’s color shifted, her voice cracking slightly. “That money was used for memories. That trip to Disney—”
“You emptied Steven’s fund,” Jay interrupted, calm but firm. “And we didn’t fight you on it. But don’t you dare try to take what’s left of Robert’s.”
He turned to Steven.
“If you’d shown effort—real dedication—we’d be behind you. But you skip classes, lie about schoolwork, and spend your days glued to TikTok. That’s not ambition, it’s avoidance.”
Amber said nothing.
Jay continued, “This money isn’t a handout. It was built for a child who dreamed, who worked hard. Clara and Martin added to it every year. It belongs to their son. And you,” he said, looking directly at Amber, “owe them an apology.”
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