Chapter 8 - The Police Threat
"You stole from a toddler," Barbara said, her voice vibrating with a terrifying, righteous fury. She looked at Evelyn, who was now shrinking back into her chair. "You actually stole money from your own three-year-old granddaughter just to spoil Clara’s kids. You are sick."
"It's family money!" Evelyn shrieked, completely dropping the elegant facade. "I can distribute it however I see fit! Clara’s boys needed new bikes for the spring! Alina is too young to appreciate a dollhouse anyway! You are just being selfish!"
Arthur finally stood up from his chair. "Barbara, please, let's just calm down and talk about this—"
"Shut up, Dad," Barbara snapped, shutting the cowardly man down instantly. She pulled her cell phone from her tan purse.
"You have exactly two options," Barbara stated cleanly, holding the phone up for her mother to see. "Option one: You write me a check for five hundred dollars right now, and I walk out that door and never speak to any of you ever again."
Clara scoffed, crossing her arms over her emerald sweater. "And what's option two? You're going to cry to your husband?"
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"Option two," Barbara replied coldly, "is I dial 911 and report you for felony wire fraud and grand theft. My mother-in-law kept all the bank transfer receipts. The police can come inspect those shiny new bicycles out on the patio and explain to Clara’s kids why their grandmother is going to jail on Christmas morning."
👉 Will the arrogant grandmother call Barbara's bluff, or will she finally surrender?
