Half her face was bandaged, but her uncovered eyes were full of smugness and mockery. “See? In this family, you’re worthless. If I cry, they’ll blame you.” She smiled, touched her wound and hissed in pain.
“Oh, I forgot. To make up for the ‘grievances’ I endured, Mom and Dad gave me your sixteenth birthday gift, the limited edition red sports car you hadn’t registered. It’s mine.”
That car was Grandpa’s gift. Before he died, he held my hand and said, “From now on, Elena and I will live like fire, passionate and free.”
She admired my cold gaze and said, “They said someone with a criminal record like you shouldn’t drive such a nice car. They also said when you get out, they’d marry you off to an honest man far from this family, so you won’t cause trouble and affect my brother and me.”
I watched her quietly, stopped recording on my phone and sent the two-minute audio to the “Loving Family” group.
At the same time, down the hallway, my parents and brother’s phones dinged. Beatrice’s face went from red to white, then ashen blue.
“You…” She barely spoke when the ward door swung open.
My brother rushed in first, phone raised with the audio playing. He stared at Beatrice in disbelief. “Beatrice… You… Is this true?”
My parents came after, equally shocked. Beatrice broke down harder than before. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”
She cried, shaking her head at my brother. “I just wanted to upset her! I wanted her to know we’re family and not hold grudges! I only said it in anger! Brother, believe me! How could I think that!”
Seeing her tears, my heart went cold. I knew they meant more than the recording in my hand. My brother began to shake; the shock in his eyes turned into heartache. He hesitated only a few seconds before believing it. His small guilt disappeared, replaced by anger at me.
“She’s already like this and you’re recording her! Are you trying to kill her? Elena, can’t you be kinder?!” He always thought I had to give in.
To cheer up Beatrice, who was “angry” and “frightened,” my brother decided to take her to a mountain to watch the stars in her new red sports car.
That was my car, a limited-edition Ferrari given to me by my grandfather on my sixteenth birthday.
He said red was the color of freedom. Since I didn’t have a driver’s license, it sat in the garage without a plate. Now, it belonged to Beatrice.