For 32 years, I was the dependable one in my family. I worked hard, saved every dime, and rarely spoiled myself. Finally, after years of sacrifice, I bought my dream car—a cherry red beauty I named Rosie. She was more than a vehicle; she symbolized my independence and perseverance.
Then came Melissa, my 28-year-old sister. Spoiled since childhood, she’s always coasted through life, knowing someone else would pick up the pieces. When I couldn’t attend my niece Lily’s birthday, Melissa guilt-tripped me into lending her my brand-new car.
Rosie came back wrecked. Scratches across the paint, mud everywhere, fast-food wrappers on the seats. The smell of grease and juice was unbearable. Cleaning and repairs cost me over $4,000. Melissa never apologized. In fact, my niece let slip that her mom had said, “Your aunt will just get it fixed since she’s so rich.”
Three weeks later, karma struck. Melissa’s own car broke down—repairs totaling over $3,000. She accused me of sabotage, but I just laughed.
I didn’t need revenge. My boundary was simple: never again. Sometimes, karma handles the rest.
