Since he had no shame, I saw no reason to spare his dignity.
This wasn't just about fifty thousand dollars. It was the test Grandpa had laid out before he died.
The old neighborhood was slated for demolition soon. Under the compensation policy, Grandpa's house qualified for eight replacement homes.
He'd transferred the property into my name and left a notarized will—kept secret from everyone else.
The terms were clear: if Uncle Oliver Finch's family proved loving and loyal, mindful of kinship, four of those eight units would go to them. But if they showed themselves to be greedy and heartless, all eight would belong to me—compensation for the years I'd spent caring for Grandpa until the end.
That fifty thousand was their final chance.
If Jarvis had shown even a shred of decency—paid back a few thousand as a gesture of good faith, or simply asked nicely—I would've handed over four units worth millions without a second thought.
But some people's greed knows no bounds.
I dialed Uncle Oliver's number.
The phone rang for a long time before he picked up. His voice came through lazy and irritated.
"Yeah? What is it, calling so late?"
I kept my anger in check.
"Uncle Oliver, it's Hailey. I wanted to talk to you about the money Jarvis borrowed."
"He said he needed it urgently for the wedding. Fifty thousand, promised to pay it back in a month. It's been six."
"I just asked him about it. He says he doesn't have it—but he's posting photos of a gold chain on social media. What do you think we should do about that?"
I expected him to say something reasonable. Or at least pretend to scold his son.
What I got instead made my jaw drop.
"Oh, come on, Hailey. Is this really worth calling me about in the middle of the night to tattle?"
"Sure, the kid's irresponsible, spends too much. I'll talk to him."
"But you know how it is—he just got married, expenses are through the roof, the baby needs formula. He's under a lot of pressure."
"You're his big cousin. He used to follow you around like a puppy. What's wrong with helping him out a little?"
My grip tightened on the phone. My voice dropped several degrees.
"Uncle Oliver, I'm happy to help. But I'm not obligated to support him."
"That fifty thousand was operating capital for my business. I need it back."
He let out a derisive snort, his tone turning nasty.
"Now you're just being petty."
"Your company pulls in plenty. Fifty thousand is pocket change to you—what, the cost of one nice dinner?"
"Your Aunt Vivien Finch hasn't been well. Times are hard for us right now."
"Just think of it as a gift for your little cousin's baby. When Jarvis makes it big someday, you think he'll forget his favorite cousin?"
"We're family. Why do you have to nickel-and-dime everything? Makes us all look bad."
Ah. The classic "I'm poor so I'm entitled, you're rich so you owe me" logic.
My voice went cold as steel.
"Uncle Oliver, even blood brothers settle their accounts."
"This was a loan, not a gift. If that's your attitude, I'll have to pursue this through legal channels."
"I have the transfer records. I have the chat logs. The court will decide."
The moment I said "court," he exploded.
"Hailey! You ungrateful little—! You'd sue your own cousin?!"
"Have you no conscience? Your Aunt Vivien held you when you were a baby!"
"You'd drag family into court over this? You file that lawsuit, and I swear I'll show up at your office with a banner!"
"I'll let the whole world see how the great Director Finch treats her poor relatives!"
His shouting was so loud it hurt my ears.
This was my dear uncle.
To dodge a debt, there was no tactic too low for him to stoop to.
