Chapter 4 - The Golden Child’s Secret
My father took a step back, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. He looked at my mother, then turned to me, his tone shifting from anger to a manipulative, paternal concern.
“Serena... sweetie,” Dad began, stepping onto the porch stair. “Let’s not make hasty decisions based on hurt feelings. You’re upset, and I understand that. But family supports each other. Chelsea is in the middle of a delicate career transition, and your mother relies on that monthly assistance for her medical supplements.”
“Delicate career transition?” Cole interrupted, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Is that what you’re calling it, Arthur?”
Chelsea froze, her posture stiffening instantly. “What are you talking about?”
“I ran a quick public record check on Chelsea’s LLC this morning,” Cole said, looking down at his phone screen. “The one you asked Serena to invest $10,000 into last spring to help her start her 'boutique marketing agency.'”
My eyes darted to Chelsea, whose face had completely drained of color.
“Cole, don't,” Chelsea stammered, stepping back toward the driveway.
“Serena gave you ten thousand dollars from our emergency savings six months ago, Chelsea,” Cole continued, raising his voice so my parents could hear every word. “You claimed the business was registered and generating revenue. But according to state records, the LLC was dissolved three months ago for non-payment of fees. And according to your public social media, you’ve spent the last ninety days taking luxury weekend trips to Miami and buying designer handbags.”
I turned my head to look directly at my sister. The piece of the puzzle I had missed for months was finally clicking into place. The endless requests for "business development loans," the sudden influx of luxury clothes, the arrogant dismissal of my hard-working lifestyle—it was all funded by my stolen money.
“Chelsea?” my father asked, turning to look at his golden daughter with sudden confusion. “Is that true? Did you close the business?”
“It was a temporary setback!” Chelsea shouted defensive tears springing to her eyes. “Serena has plenty of money! Her husband works in corporate law! Why should she hoard everything while I’m trying to get on my feet?”
“Because it’s my money!” I yelled, stepping off the porch, my voice cracking with years of suppressed rage. “It’s money Cole and I earned working sixty hours a week! Money meant for my children’s future! You didn't build a business, Chelsea—you stole from your own niece and nephew so you could pretend to be rich on Instagram!”
My mother stepped between us, putting her arms around Chelsea in an instinctive gesture of protection.
“Don't you dare talk to your sister like that, Serena!” Evelyn spat, her eyes glaring at me with pure venom. “She’s younger! She’s trying her best! You’ve always been bitter and jealous of her!”
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That was the final straw. The last thread of familial obligation snapped cleanly in half.
“Get off my property,” I said, my voice dropping into a register so cold it surprised even myself. “All three of you. If you set foot on my lawn again, I’m calling the police.”
