Chapter 3

03

That evening, Brody dragged Candice to my apartment to apologize in person.

Candice grudgingly dropped a couple of grocery store gift sets on my kitchen counter―some generic organic milk cartons and cheap supplement drinks.

Her lips pouted so high you could hang a coat on them, and she muttered under her breath: "Hmph. Just looking for excuses to take advantage of my boyfriend and make him spend money on you. What kind of sister does that?"

Brody nudged Candice and gave me a fawning smile.

"Sis, Candice and I came to make things right."

Candice chimed in with a passive-aggressive tone, "Sis, it was my fault today. But when you drive a car, minor scratches are bound to happen. If you're really that stingy over a few bucks, my boyfriend can just pay you back. There's no need to smear my reputation everywhere."

Was I ever short on money? What I cared about was basic respect and accountability!

Wrecking my car and acting like nothing happened―did she really think that was acceptable?

I was honestly astounded by her twisted mental gymnastics, acting so entitled after wrecking someone else's property.

Brody was the one dating her, not me. Why did she act like the entire world owed her a living?

Showing up for an apology with an attitude like that―anyone looking in would think I was the one who committed a crime!

"It's obvious you're not here to solve anything sincerely, and you're not welcome in my home! Take your garbage and get the hell out. If you're short a single cent on the repair bill, I'll take both of you to court and let the law teach you how to behave!"

"The world is full of shameless freeloaders these days. Don't pollute the air in my apartment."

Ignoring Brody's puppy-dog pleading eyes, I shoved them both out the door.

I tossed their cheap grocery gifts straight into the hallway after them.

I never deleted the audio recording from the family group chat.

Once my parents saw it, the chat exploded with fury.

"What kind of trash dares to talk to my precious daughter like that? Does she have any idea who rules this household?!" my dad fumed.

My mom was just as fiery: "The audacity! Brody's taste is in the gutter, picking up garbage like that. I knew that boy couldn't do anything right."

My uncles, aunts, and cousins all chimed in, flooding the chat to comfort me.

Before Brody even had a chance to defend himself, he was kicked out of the group chat.

Watching the notification count shoot past ninety-nine within minutes, all my frustration vanished.

To cheer me up, my parents had a limited-edition Chanel bag flown in from Paris for me.

My mom even called right away.

"Baby, don't lower yourself to the level of lowlifes like that. Don't worry, there is no way in hell I will ever let your brother marry someone like her!"

My dad chimed in from the background, "Exactly! Trying to bully my baby girl? She clearly doesn't know who calls the shots!"

Still slightly annoyed, I unblocked Brody and texted him the official repair invoice from the dealership.

Brody scraped together money from heaven knows where and quickly transferred the total to me.

In the end, I still felt a shred of sisterly affection. Knowing his meager monthly allowance, I refunded the transfer back to his account.

"Consider this a debt. You can pay me back once you earn money from your summer job."

Brody immediately sent back a bow emoji: "Thank you, your Majesty!"