After I Stopped Being A Troublemaker, My Family Regretted It

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.

Before leaving, Beatrice sat in the passenger seat, rolled down the window and gave me a provocative smile from the villa entrance.

She said to my brother in a playful voice, “Brother, this car is beautiful! Too bad Mom and Dad didn’t give it to our sister. With her temper, she’d probably crash it.”

My brother didn’t argue and just said, “Sit tight.”

I stopped in front of the car and looked at my brother. “Brother, one last time. This car was given to me by Grandpa, right?” I searched his eyes for any sign of the old warmth.

My brother avoided my eyes and honked irritably. “Why bring up the past? Move! Behave and I’ll buy you anything from now on!”

He thought money could fix everything, not knowing some things were priceless. I nodded with a strange smile. “Okay, I won’t bring it up.”

I stepped back, pretending to move and pointed at the car. “It’s dusty. Let me clean it. It’s your new car.”

My brother was startled, likely thinking I had finally given in.

His tense face relaxed and he sighed. “Okay, that’s enough. Let’s go back.”

He said this, but didn’t stop me or turn off the engine. I pretended to wipe the hood with my sleeve, then lifted it while they weren’t paying attention.

“Elena, what are you doing?!” My brother’s eyes widened as I pulled a can of rust remover from behind me.

I had just found the rust remover in the dark, damp basement. I opened it and sprayed the hot, roaring engine.

“Elena! Are you crazy?!” My brother tried to stop me, but it was too late. I sprayed the whole can.

A white smoke rose and a fire instantly broke out in the engine. Beatrice and my brother, scared, quickly unbuckled and got out of the car.

The fire spread fast, destroying the red car. Soon, the entire expensive sports car became a giant fireball. I stood there, watching the two shivering figures hugging through the hot air.

The flames reflected in my eyes like flickering lights. “I’d rather destroy what I made than leave it to a dog. This fire isn’t burning the car; it’s burning my last attachment to this family.”