They Framed My Dead Grandfather,But I Had the Last Laugh

When my year-end bonus came through, I bought Grandpa Murphy a paper car offering.

The very next day, the police showed up at my door. They said my grandfather had been involved in a hit-and-run and demanded I hand him over.

The victim's family member lunged at me like a man possessed, grabbing my collar and screaming in my face.

"Hand over that old bastard right now!"

"He hit my father so hard the man's paralyzed from the waist down! He's still lying in the ICU!"

I explained over and over that there was no way my grandfather had hit anyone.

But he refused to listen. He even brought people to my office and trashed my workstation.

He strung up a banner outside the company building, hurling curses for everyone to hear.

"Until that old bastard shows his face, I'm not going anywhere."

"Let's see who outlasts who."

I took a deep breath and held up the purchase receipt on my phone.

Everyone's jaw dropped.

——

A massive banner hung outside the company building, and a crowd had gathered, whispering and pointing.

MURDEROUS OLD MAN, GIVE MY FATHER BACK HIS LIFE!

The man leading the spectacle knelt on the ground in mourning clothes, sobbing. Both his eyes were swollen and raw from crying.

"Your whole family is scum! You did this to my father, and now you think you can just deny it?"

Employees packed the sidewalk, rubbernecking, their judgmental stares sweeping over me again and again.

I'd been with this company since graduating college. My talent had carried me to a director-level position at a young age, which had earned me no small amount of jealousy.

Now that someone had handed them ammunition against me, they weren't about to let the opportunity pass.

"If you hit someone, own up to it. What kind of person flees the scene?"

"Look at her, playing innocent. If you didn't know better, you'd actually think we had the wrong person."

"Wrong person? The victim's family tracked her down at her workplace. Who would use their own father's life to frame somebody?"

Michael Young fed off the crowd's support, his spine straightening with every word of encouragement.

He bared his teeth and lunged toward me.

"My father is eighty-three years old! At his age, he has to suffer like this, and you people won't lift a finger? You're trying to dodge responsibility!"

"Everyone here has parents. How can you do something like this and still call yourselves human?"

I drew a slow breath and locked eyes with him, speaking each word with deliberate precision.

"There is no way my grandfather hit your father."

"Your behavior today has already disrupted my life. If you don't leave now, I'm calling the police."

Right and wrong weren't determined by one man running his mouth.

If he wanted to claim my grandfather hit someone, he'd better produce the evidence.

The moment the words left my lips, he erupted.

He dropped to the ground, slapping his thighs, wailing at the top of his lungs.

"Officer, would you look at this? Look how arrogant she is!"

"She hits someone and won't even apologize. Now she's threatening me!"

The officer standing nearby looked equally displeased. He shot me a hard look and said coldly:

"You'd better hand your grandfather over. Hit-and-run is a serious charge. Even if he's elderly, the law still applies."

"He's old enough that maybe he doesn't understand that. But surely you do?"

Of course I understood how serious a hit-and-run charge was. But my grandfather truly couldn't come.

Michael's stunt today had made a spectacle right outside the building, dealing real damage to the company's image. My boss hadn't said anything, but there was no way he was happy about it.

Michael's eyes darted, and he adopted a magnanimous pose, as if he were doing me a favor.

"How about this. What's done is done. Talking in circles won't change anything."

"Give me a hundred thousand dollars. Consider it my father's medical bills and emotional damages. We can settle the ongoing care costs separately..."