Chapter 4

"Joe!"

Aunt Alice grabbed Joe's arm, trying to stop him.

"Mom, stay out of it!"

Joe shook her off and pointed straight at me.

"I finally see what you're really like. Over a broken laptop and 7,000 dollars, you're willing to cut your own cousin off? All you care about is money, isn't it?"

I looked at his face twisted by anger and suddenly felt like I was staring at a stranger.

"This isn't about money," I said calmly. "It's about principle. You borrowed something from me, you damaged it, and you pay for it. That's basic responsibility."

"What did I damage?" he shot back. "The laptop still turns on, doesn't it? It still works, doesn't it?"

"Works?" I opened the laptop and launched Photoshop, then imported an image. "Look for yourself."

The progress bar crawled forward. The fans roared to life, and the noise was so loud that customers at the next table turned to look at us.

"A video that used to render in ten minutes now takes two hours. Software that used to open instantly now freezes for three minutes. You call this usable?"

Joe's face turned red, then pale.

"That's not my fault! It was the repair shop!"

"You chose that repair shop," I said.

"I didn't know they'd swap the parts!" he shot back.

"Then why didn't you tell me it was repaired? Why didn't you tell me the shop's name? And why did you say 'it's fine' every single time I asked?" I demanded.

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

Aunt Alice stepped in quickly.

"Joe probably just didn't want to worry you…"

"Didn't want to worry me?" I repeated, laughing under my breath. "Or he just didn't want me to find out and make him pay?"

A trace of unease crossed Mom's face.

"Watch how you speak…" she murmured.

"Mom, I'm stating facts," I replied evenly.

"You—" she began.

"Enough," Joe snapped, cutting her off.

He pulled out his phone and shoved a transfer record toward me. "Look! 850 dollars! That's what I paid for a system reinstall. If I'd replaced parts, you really think it would only cost this much?"

I glanced at the screen briefly. "A system reinstall usually costs 50 to 100 dollars. 850 dollars is more than enough to buy a set of used low-end components."

Joe froze.

"Michael Smith!" Aunt Alice interrupted sharply. "Watch your tone. Joe is your cousin. Are you really trying to back him into a corner like this?"

"Aunt Alice," I said, holding her gaze. "Am I really the one backing him into a corner, or is he the one forcing me here? A laptop worth over 7,000 dollars in hardware has been reduced to barely 300 dollars in junk. That's a 7,000-dollar loss. Shouldn't he be held responsible for that?"

Aunt Alice retorted, "That's not how you talk! We're family. Why can't we handle this properly?"

"I did try to handle this properly," I replied. "Three months ago, I lent him the laptop. A month later, I asked when he'd return it. Two months later, I asked if anything was wrong with it. Yesterday, I called him after getting the diagnostic report."

I looked at her calmly.

"When exactly did he ever give me a proper answer?"

Aunt Alice went silent, clearly caught off guard by my response.

Joe grabbed his bag. "Mom, let's go. There's no point talking to people like this."

He turned and walked out without hesitation.

Aunt Alice gave me a complicated look. She hesitated for a moment, then hurried after him.

Across from me, Mom sat in silence, frowning deeply.

After a long pause, she finally said, "You were too impulsive."

I looked at her.

"Mom, what exactly was impulsive about what I said? What did I say wrong?"

Mom let out a sigh.

"The way you spoke… How could Joe possibly admit he was wrong after that?"

"He's the one at fault. Am I supposed to kneel down and beg him to admit it?" I shot back.

"That's not what I meant…" Mom said weakly.

I looked straight at her.

"Then what did you mean? Since I was a kid, you always told me to let it go whenever Joe broke my things or failed to return money he borrowed from me. As long as he said he didn't mean it, that was the end of it.

"But this time, I lost 7,000 dollars because he swapped out my laptop parts. What about next time? If he hits someone with a car, is he just going to say 'I didn't mean it' and walk away?"

Mom frowned deeply.

"It's not the same…"

"It's the same at its core," I said as I stood up. "When you do something wrong, you take responsibility for it. That's the most basic principle of being an adult, and yet he's gone over 20 years without ever learning it. If no one else has taught him, then I will."