I couldn’t believe my ears.
“Wait a second, Mom. Dad, when exactly was I ever mentally unstable? I graduated at the top of my class and have worked diligently ever since. I’ve never caused you trouble, not even once.”
“Mandy, calm down,” my mother said in a low voice.
There was no concern in her eyes, only a warning that said, “Don’t say anything unnecessary.”
“You’re worked up right now. See, this is exactly what I mean by unstable.”
“Don’t you dare!”
I sprang to my feet. My chair toppled over behind me with a loud crash.
“I am perfectly normal. You’re the ones who are sick. When I couldn’t pay my rent, you told me I wasn’t trying hard enough and to be independent, didn’t you? And yet, behind my back, you handed over a house in my name to Ashley.”
“Mandy, how dare you speak to your parents like that?” my father shouted, slamming his fist on the table. “We did it for your own good. You don’t have the ability to manage assets, so we entrusted it to Ashley.”
For my own good.
The absurdity of it all left me too numb even to cry.
“Oh, shut up already,” Ashley Thompson screamed. “A plain, boring woman like you doesn’t deserve a beautiful house like that. We were just putting it to good use. You should be thanking us.”
“Ashley, you…”
My vision blurred with frustration. My whole body trembled with rage.
This is family?
Is this what people bound by blood do to each other?
“That’s enough.”
My grandmother’s voice cut cleanly through the swamp of shouting. She rose slowly, leaning on her cane, and walked over to me.
Then she placed her hand gently on my shaking shoulder.
“Mandy is right. All of you are rotten. Completely rotten to the core.”
“Mom, that’s going too far,” my father said, his face twisting. “We did everything for the sake of the family.”
My grandmother looked down at him coldly.
“There is no family here. There are only hyenas who fed on their granddaughter’s property. Tonight, everything will be settled.”
She pulled a smartphone from her pocket and pressed a speed dial number.
“Come in, please. Yes, right now.”
The front door opened, letting in a gust of cold night air along with a man. It was Mr. Watson, my grandmother’s personal attorney.
He carried a thick briefcase.
“Mrs. Hansen, I’ve brought all the documents as instructed,” Attorney Watson said in a business-like tone, setting a heavy stack of papers down on the table.
“What is all this?” my father staggered back a step.
“George, Sandra, and Ashley,” my grandmother declared. “I will now go through every single fraudulent act you committed. One page at a time. Don’t think for a moment you can escape.”
I wiped away my tears and lifted my head. The warmth of my grandmother’s hand gave me strength.
That’s right.
This wasn’t the time to cry, and I had a duty to make them face the consequences they deserved.
In the dead, silent room, my small laugh echoed. I stood up slowly, shedding the mask of the frightened victim I’d been wearing until now.
Pretending to wipe my tears with my napkin, I looked down at my family with cold, merciless eyes.
“That’s enough acting, Grandma.”
“Yes, indeed, Mandy. I’ve been thoroughly entertained,” my grandmother replied, stepping firmly to my side, her cane tapping the floor.
My father, mother, and Ashley were speechless at our sudden transformation.
“Huh, Mandy, why are you laughing?” my mother asked in a trembling voice.
“Don’t you see? You guys were being played?” I told her coldly.
I continued without mercy.
“A week ago, Grandma contacted me. Not through you, but through my aunt. She said, ‘It seems the family has been intercepting my letters and deliberately isolating you.’ From that moment on, we knew everything. And that’s why we set the stage for tonight, this so-called Thanksgiving dinner. We waited for the moment you’d let your guard down and confess your crimes with your own mouths.”
“What? We were set up.”
My father went pale and tried to stand.
“Sit down.”
One word from my grandmother pinned him to his chair.
“This isn’t over yet. In fact, it’s only just beginning. Mr. Watson, please.”
“Shall we start with the forged gift agreement? The handwriting analysis is complete.”
Attorney Watson slid a document to the center of the table. It was a real estate registry.
“This property, Lakeside Manor, was originally purchased by Mrs. Hansen in Mandy Hansen’s name. However, the current registered owner is Ashley Thompson, your younger sister. The transfer date is October 15th, 3 years ago. The sale price was $1, a gift.”
That was the price of my life.
I stared at the date.
October 3 years ago.
The exact time I had graduated from college and begun drowning under student loan repayments and living expenses. The moment my life started to derail.