I’m Vera, seventeen, and for the past year, I lived for one dream: to take my mother to the ocean. After surviving cancer, she deserved more than just survival—she deserved serenity. I worked double shifts, skipped every party, and saved $3,765. Every dollar was a promise.
Then came Aunt Viola.
She said I couldn’t book the trip myself because I was underage. She offered to help. I trusted her. I handed her everything.
Days later, she confessed: she’d spent it on a car.
“You’re young,” she said. “You’ll save it again.”
I felt gutted. My sacrifice, my hope—gone in seconds. I didn’t tell Mom. I couldn’t bear to break her heart again.
But karma listens.
Viola’s boyfriend, Marcus, overheard everything. He reached out, handed me an envelope with $4,000, and said, “Your mom deserves this. Viola deserves the truth.”
A week later, Viola walked into a fancy dinner expecting a proposal. Instead, Marcus stood before her friends, coworkers, and family—and exposed her betrayal. She sat frozen, humiliated, as the room turned cold.
She lost her boyfriend, her reputation, and eventually, her car.
But I gained something greater.
Mom and I made it to the ocean. We watched the sun melt into the waves, ate lobster on the beach, and laughed like we hadn’t in years. She smiled—really smiled. And I realized: this trip wasn’t just a gift. It was a testament to love, resilience, and justice.
Viola showed me who I’ll never become. Marcus reminded me that kindness still exists. And Mom? She remains my anchor, my hero, my reason.
Some betrayals cut deep. But sometimes, the universe writes the ending for you.
