Grandpa's Funeral Reduced to Her Dog's Show

"That contract was signed when the old man was alive," Joyce laughed. "He's dead now, making that contract invalid. Besides, it's a different situation now. Your family needs us more."

Isaac relaxed, grinning as he patted her head. "That's right. We don't need them. Even if I end it, she'll come crawling back."

Turning to me, he said, "I'll grant your wish if you hand over all his assets."

I was stunned by his audacity. His family was dirt poor back then, and now he was eying Cuthbert's million-dollar fortune.

His shamelessness unnerved me. I grabbed a guard's phone and called the company to check on Cuthbert's inheritance.

The staff on the other end confirmed my worst fears. Three days ago, Isaac had transferred all of Cuthbert's assets to himself under the pretense of reviewing them.

My hands shook, and I yelled, "You've been scheming for Cuthbert's money this whole time? You'd better give it back as soon as possible! That's government compensation!"

He was unfazed. "You've been lording your family's wealth over Joyce forever. Without it, you're nothing. Let's go, Joyce. We're burying Luck."

He carried the dog toward the hearse, and Joyce stuck out her tongue at me. "Big shots get fancy hearses. Luck is getting the VIP treatment today."

I clutched the urn, sneering as they climbed into the hearse. That vehicle was sent by top officials to transport Cuthbert to the cemetery for burial.

It was a privilege reserved for first-class merit recipients. No one else dared use it.

The leaders were waiting at the cemetery to mourn Cuthbert. If they saw Isaac and Joyce step out with a dog, their entire family would be finished.

Picturing their doom delighted me.

"Get over here and drive!" Isaac shouted. "Pray out loud for Luck the whole way! Do you hear me?"

Joyce leaned out the window, smirking. "Make it loud, Charlotte. After the funeral, we'll let Cuthbert have a turn in the hearse. Thank me already."

I stood firm, unmoved.

Ted and Leah grabbed my hair, dragging me toward the hearse. "Do it! If Joyce is not happy, no one will be. And you will suffer!"

My scalp burned, but as the hearse rolled forward, I didn't resist. The more they acted out, the worse their downfall would be.

At the cemetery, the hearse pulled up slowly.