Willow's voice filled the room—that fake, sugary tone she used whenever she wanted something.

"...Oh, Ella, just cancel the ticket! Cancel it!"

"Why waste money on the high-speed rail? Money's tight—save where you can!"

"Just ride with your uncle. One straight shot, way faster than the train!"

"We're family, don't be formal. It's convenient anyway. We'll pick you up right at the school gate!"

"...What? Worried about traffic? Don't be silly!"

"We'll leave off-peak. Smooth sailing, I promise! Just listen to your auntie—refund the ticket!"

The recording ended. The silence that followed hit harder than any accusation.

Dad turned on Victor. "Well? Did the kid make this up too?"

Victor's mouth opened. Nothing came out. His face went white, then flushed deep red. Sweat beaded at his temples. He couldn't meet anyone's eyes.

"Fine. Let's say Ella wasn't clear about the arrangement," Mom said, her voice ice. "What about the delay? She said you stopped to buy a bag. True or false?"

"No! Of course not!"

Willow denied it instantly, but her eyes darted around the room. Her confidence was cracking.

"She's guessing! The traffic was from an accident. Bad luck. Just a coincidence..."

I kept my voice level. "Guessing? Check the dashcam. Or show us the receipt for that bag. The timestamp won't lie."

Willow choked on her words. Her face turned a blotchy purple.

Victor snapped his head up, glaring at me—embarrassment and rage mixed together. The look of a man whose last dignity had just been stripped away.

Dad pointed a shaking finger at Willow. "Do you have no shame? Lying through your teeth to scam a child? She earned that scholarship penny by penny, staying up all night studying! And you try to steal it?"

Mom's eyes were red—not with tears. With fury.

"Victor, I am your biological sister!"

"Have I ever shortchanged you? When you were in school and we were struggling, I sent you half my paycheck just for living expenses!"

"When you bought your house, Logan and I gave you eighty thousand. Did we ask for a promissory note? No!"

"What did we want from you? Nothing! We just thought family should look out for each other."

She turned her glare on Willow. "And you. When you broke your leg, who took care of you for a month?"

"When your mother needed surgery, who contacted the hospital? Who fronted the medical bills?"

"We did it because we're family. Never asked for a cent back!"

"And this is how you repay us? Extorting a thousand dollars from my daughter? Making up fees for gas and wear-and-tear?"

"Where is your conscience?"

The words cut through the air like knives.

Victor's neck veins bulged—humiliation and anger fighting for control. But Willow tore off the mask completely.

"Why bring up ancient history?" she shrieked. "That was then! One thing has nothing to do with the other!"

"Even brothers keep clear accounts!"

"Doesn't driving burn gas? Aren't tolls money? Isn't wear on the car costing us? Is our time worthless?"

"Why should we give her a ride for free?"

"What's wrong with a thousand dollars? If you ask me, we got the short end!"

"We were stuck in traffic for eighteen hours! Who's going to compensate us for that misery?" Willow shrieked.

Victor chimed in, though his voice was muffled and he refused to make eye contact. "Sis, Logan... Willow's delivery might be harsh, but her logic stands."

He shifted in his seat, wringing his hands. "The economy is tanking, and we're under a lot of pressure right now. Ella is an adult, after all. It's only fair she chips in for such a long trip. It's... it's just how things should be."

Dad let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Victor, you're regressing! You're living backward! This isn't cost-sharing; this is extortion. Have you no shame?"

He slammed his hand on the table. "It was supposed to be a carpool! The key phrase here is 'on the way'! You insisted she return her train ticket because you were driving back anyway. You explicitly said it wouldn't cost a dime!"

His voice rose, trembling with indignation. "Now you turn around, force a charge on a student, and act self-righteous about it? I've never met anyone with skin as thick as yours!"

"Logan, watch your mouth!" Willow abandoned all pretense of civility, planting her hands on her hips. "Extortion? Please. We provided a service. Taking money for it is only natural!"

She gestured wildly. "You'd pay for a taxi from the station, wouldn't you? We delivered the child right to your doorstep. Is that service worthless? Don't talk to me about a thousand—try hiring a private car for fifteen hundred and see if anyone takes you!"

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "You just think we're easy targets because we're family. You think you're entitled to take advantage of us for free!"

"Ella taking advantage of you?" Mom's voice dropped to absolute zero. "You actually have the nerve to say that out loud?"

She stared at her sister-in-law as if seeing a stranger. "Willow Chavez, today I finally see you for who you really are."

"I don't care about the money," Mom continued, her tone icy and precise. "But you will return the thousand dollars Ella gave you. Every single cent. This isn't a financial dispute. This is a matter of principle. It's about basic human decency!"

"Return it? Dream on!" Willow screamed, spittle flying across the table. "Given is given! That was the fare! Why should I return it?"

She sneered, her face twisted with greed. "Keep dreaming! Once money hits my pocket, it stays there. Honestly, for the trouble we went through, a thousand is too little!"

The more she spoke, the more unhinged she became. She jabbed a finger toward my parents' faces.

"Is your daughter made of gold? She rides, she pays. Or is your family just used to freeloading?"

"I'm telling you now: I'm not coughing up a single cent!" Willow declared. "In fact, you're paying for this meal, too! Who told you to book a five-star hotel just to put on airs? You deserve to bleed for it!"

She snatched the half-finished bottle of expensive liquor from the table and took a swig straight from the neck. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she smiled with arrogant satisfaction.

"What? You don't like it? Too bad. Suck it up!"

"Victor is my husband, and he does what I say!" She laughed, a grating sound. "You people and your pathetic 'family values' deserve to be scammed. In this world, money is king! Even if God himself walked through that door, don't even think about making me return the money!"

She crossed her legs and shook her foot, humming a little tune, basking in her perceived victory.

Dad and Mom were shaking with suppressed rage, unable to form words.

Then—a soft click.

The private room door swung open.