Chapter 2: The Price of Cruelty
Samantha was laughing when my dad entered the living room.
She was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed, holding her expensive designer bag like it was a trophy.
Three of her friends were gathered around her.
They were admiring the bag.
“Seriously, Samantha, this is gorgeous,” one of them said.
Samantha smiled.
“I know. It’s limited edition.””
She ran her fingers over the leather.
“My mom said I deserved something special after all the stress I’ve been through.””
Stress.
I almost laughed.
She had spent the last three years living in a huge house, driving a luxury car, and having every problem solved with money.
But my dad didn’t say anything about that.
He just stood there.
Holding the shears.
The room slowly became quiet.
Samantha looked up.
Her smile disappeared.
“Dad?””
My father walked closer.
“What did you do?””
She looked confused.
“What are you talking about?””
“Your sister’s dress.””
Her face changed for half a second.
Just half a second.
Then she recovered.
“Oh, that?””
She shrugged.
“It was an accident.””
I stared at her.
An accident?
“You cut it twelve times,” I said.
Samantha rolled her eyes.
“Okay, fine. I ruined it. But it’s just fabric.””
My dad looked down at the shears in his hand.
Then at her bag.
Everyone noticed.
Samantha laughed nervously.
“Dad, what are you doing?””
He picked up the designer bag.
Her expression changed instantly.
“No.””
My father held the bag in one hand and the shears in the other.
“Do you know what your sister’s dress was worth?””
Samantha crossed her arms.
“I don’t care.””
“That wasn’t a dress.””
His voice was shaking.
“That was a promise from her mother.””
Samantha looked away.
“Here we go again.””
The words hit harder than a slap.
My dad’s jaw tightened.
“You think this is about money?””
“No,” Samantha said.
“I think this is about Emily always being the favorite.””
I stepped forward.
“Are you serious?””
She looked at me.
“You get everything.””
I laughed bitterly.
“You think I wanted my mom to die?””
The room went silent.
Even Samantha looked uncomfortable.
But only for a moment.
Then she said:
“You always use that.””
My dad moved instantly.
“Enough.””
It was the first time I had heard him raise his voice at her.
Samantha looked shocked.
My dad rarely yelled.
He believed anger solved nothing.
He believed family should always forgive.
That was why Samantha thought she could do anything.
Because she thought forgiveness meant there were no consequences.
My dad lifted the bag.
“This cost three thousand dollars?””
Samantha’s eyes widened.
“Dad, don’t.””
“Your sister’s dress cost years of memories.””
He looked at me.
Then back at Samantha.
“You destroyed something she can never replace.””
Samantha stood.
“You’re seriously comparing a stupid dress to my bag?””
“No.””
My dad’s voice became calm.
“I’m comparing your choice to mine.””
She froze.
He slowly lowered the shears.
“I’m not cutting this bag.””
Samantha relaxed.
Then he placed it on the table.
“I’m making sure you understand something.””
He looked directly at her.
“Money can buy another bag.””
His eyes moved toward my torn dress upstairs.
“But there is no store where you can buy back someone’s last piece of their mother.””
Nobody spoke.
Samantha looked away.
For the first time, I saw something close to shame.
But it vanished quickly.
“You’re overreacting.””
My dad shook his head.
“No.””
He pointed toward the stairs.
“I spent years trying to make this house feel like a family.””
His voice cracked.
“But I was wrong.””
Samantha frowned.
“What does that mean?””
“It means I protected the wrong person.””
Victoria walked into the room at that moment.
She had been upstairs.
She looked between everyone.
“What happened?””
Samantha immediately changed.
“Dad is attacking me because Emily is upset over a dress.””
My stomach turned.
“She’s lying.””
Victoria looked at me.
Then at my dad.
“What happened?””
My dad answered.
“Samantha destroyed Emily’s graduation dress.””
Victoria blinked.
“She did what?””
Samantha sighed dramatically.
“It wasn’t a big deal.””
Victoria stared at her daughter.
“You ruined her mother’s dress?””
For the first time, Samantha looked nervous.
“Mom…”
But Victoria didn’t defend her.
She just looked disappointed.
And somehow that hurt Samantha more than anger.
“You need to apologize,” Victoria said.
Samantha laughed.
“Seriously?””
“Yes.””
“No.””
She grabbed her bag.
“I’m not apologizing for a piece of fabric.””
My dad looked at her.
“Then you’re not apologizing for the dress.””
He paused.
“You’re refusing to apologize for hurting your sister.””
Samantha walked toward the door.
“I need space.””
She opened it.
Then stopped.
She looked back at me.
“You think you won.””
I said nothing.
She smiled coldly.
“This isn’t over.””
The door slammed.
I thought that was the end.
I thought my dad standing up for me meant everything would finally change.
I was wrong.
Because the next morning, when I arrived at graduation, I found out Samantha had done something much worse.
Someone had posted a photo online.
A photo of my ruined dress.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
The caption underneath was from Samantha.
It said:
*“Some people will do anything for attention.””*
And beneath it were hundreds of comments calling me fake.
Calling me dramatic.
Calling my mother’s memory a performance.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
One sentence.
May you like
One sentence that made my blood run cold.
*“You should ask your dad why Samantha was really allowed to destroy that dress.””*
