I drew a deep breath.
"Fine. Fine. You'd rather believe some IOU that could be forged for all you know than the evidence right in front of your faces."
"Since you all think he's a living saint, I'm done. Take the house—give it to him. Let him breathe in the formaldehyde until it poisons him. Let him enjoy his little spy setup."
I turned to leave.
"Don't you dare walk away!"
A hand seized my hair from behind.
Before I could see who it was, a palm cracked across my face.
Dad stood there, chest heaving, finger jabbing at me.
"You think you can just leave? You'll explain yourself first!"
"You've dragged your brother's name through the mud, and now you want to walk away like nothing happened? Not a chance."
Several relatives crowded in, making a show of breaking things up while their mouths dripped poison:
"Old Mr. Pruitt, there's no need to hit the girl! Though really, Darlene, that temper of yours... someone ought to teach you some manners."
Mom stood to the side, her face carved from ice.
"Darlene. You will kneel before your brother and kowtow three times. If you don't, I no longer have a daughter."
"The Pruitt family has no room for ungrateful backstabbers."
I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth. The hurt went deeper than my split lip.
"Dad. Mom." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Do you really think I'm the one being unreasonable here?"
"My whole life—every mess Alfred made, who cleaned it up? Me."
"When he stole money to blow on video games, you told everyone we'd been robbed. When he beat up the neighbor's kid, you sent me to apologize and pay them off."
"He didn't even finish vocational school before he ran off to 'make his own way'—and racked up a mountain of debt. I'm the one who scraped together every penny to pay it back while I was living on instant noodles—"
Alfred cut me off, his voice sharp with panic.
"Enough! Why drag up ancient history? Everyone does stupid things when they're young!"
"I've changed, haven't I? I work hard now. I've done nothing but try to be good to you. Why won't you let it go?"
He turned to the relatives, his face a mask of wounded betrayal.
"Uncles, aunties—you be the judge. My sister passed the civil service exam. She's a government official now. She's too good for a factory worker brother like me."
"She thinks I'm dirty. Embarrassing. That's why she's manufacturing reasons to cut me off—to cut all of us poor relations out of her life!"
"This camera—" He jabbed a finger at the evidence. "She planted it herself to frame me!"
Aunt Diana gasped dramatically.
"I knew it! Alfred wouldn't know the first thing about technology like this. She set him up!"
Aunt Theresa clicked her tongue, lip curled in disgust.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. The scheming on this one. She'd stoop to anything to disown her own family. Mark my words—karma will find her."
Mom's finger shot toward my face.
"So that's it... that's what this is! I wondered why you came in swinging that hammer—you planned this from the start!"
"You want to destroy me and your father? Destroy your brother? How can your heart be so rotten?"
I pulled out my phone.
"Framed him?" I looked straight at Alfred. "Did you forget that bank transfers and chat logs can be recovered?"
"You claim this two hundred thousand went to construction materials? Then explain why every single supplier I contacted says they've never seen your face."
"You claim you borrowed from loan sharks to fund the renovation? Then what's this 'Venetian Palace' app doing on your phone—and why does it show gambling deposits?"
"Last night at two a.m., you dropped another five thousand into it. Didn't you?"
The color drained from his face. His eyes darted to Dad.
"You—you're making things up! What Venetian Palace? I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Dad, she's trying to trap me! She just wants to destroy my reputation!"
Dad stepped in front of Alfred, shielding him from me.
"I'd like to see anyone try to touch my son." His hand shot out. "Darlene. Give me that phone. Now."
