“Dad,” he asked, “are Grandma and Grandpa still mad?”
I smiled faintly.
“Maybe, but that’s not our problem anymore.”
He nodded thoughtfully, then went back to building.
A few days later, Tyler called again.
“You might want to know,” he said. “Dad’s business license is under review. They’re auditing his accounts.”
I leaned back, staring out the window.
“Good. Maybe he’ll finally learn that actions have consequences.”
Tyler hesitated.
“You sure you’re okay with all this?”
“I’m not happy about it,” I said honestly. “But I’m at peace with it. Because here’s the thing. I didn’t destroy him. He did that himself. I just handed the truth to the right people.”
And when the truth is ugly enough, it doesn’t need help catching fire.
By the end of spring, my father’s company had quietly shut down for restructuring.
Melissa deleted her Instagram for a while after people started leaving comments like, “Hope your next vacation isn’t paid for by fake invoices.”
