"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.
