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I showed up to Christmas dinner on a cast, still limping from when my daughter-in-law had shoved me days earlier. My son just laughed and said, “She taught you a lesson—you had it coming.” Then the doorbell rang. I smiled, opened it, and said, “Come in, officer.”

I showed up to Christmas dinner on a cast, still limping from when my daughter-in-law had shoved me days earlier. My son just laughed and said, “She taught you a lesson—you had it coming.” Then the doorbell rang. I smiled, opened it, and said, “Come in, officer.”

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The Money Starts Disappearing

Six months after they moved in, Jeffrey came to me in the garden, wearing the face he’d used as a child when he wanted something. His company might lay him off, he said. He needed $50,000 for a course that would secure his future.

I wired the money the next day.

Three weeks later, Melanie came to my bedroom, teary-eyed, saying her mother needed a $30,000 surgery. I paid that too. We were family, after all.

The requests kept coming:
– $40,000 for an investment,
– $25,000 for a car accident,
– $30,000 for a “business partnership.”

By December, I’d given them $230,000 without seeing a cent back. Whenever I mentioned repayment, Jeffrey changed the subject. They always approached me alone, always with a crisis that made me feel guilty if I said no.

“When Is the Old Woman Going to Die?”

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