Chapter 4

She pulled out the memory card and turned it between her fingers. Its silver surface caught the light.

“Mrs. Pride, before you rush to defend him, would you like to see what your precious boy was really doing in here in the middle of the night?”

Mom’s face went pale.

Bobby stopped his fake wailing too. Panic flashed in his eyes as he ducked behind her.

Dad frowned and tried to smooth things over.

“Lara, Bobby was in the wrong, but he’s sick. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing. There’s no need to air the family’s dirty laundry. Why don’t we just let this go?”

I spoke before anyone else could.

“No! He came into her room and stole from her. That is what happened. We have it all on camera, so he can’t talk his way out of it.”

Lara chuckled and slipped the memory card into her pocket.

“Fine. We can leave it at that.”

She walked over to me and gently touched my reddened cheek. Her fingertips were cool against my burning skin.

“But that slap doesn’t get swept under the rug. I’ll remember it and settle it later.”

Early that morning, our phones started ringing non-stop.

Before sunrise, Bobby had gone crying to the family group chat.

He posted photos of the red marks on his arms along with a long message.

He claimed that the girlfriend I brought home had assaulted him, planted cameras to intimidate him, and tried to drive a wedge between my father and me.

The family group chat lit up in outrage.

By 8 a.m., our living room was packed with relatives.

Aunt Clara marched in and yelled at me, “Kyle, have you lost your mind? Your uncle saved your father’s life! Is this how you repay him, by letting some outsider mistreat his son?”

Uncle Jim quickly joined in, “Exactly! Bobby isn’t well. He doesn’t even understand what he’s doing. That woman’s clearly stirring up trouble. Break up with her and apologize to Bobby!”

One after another, they jumped in to blame me.

My parents sat on the couch looking grim, but neither of them said a word in my defense.

Mom sighed and looked at me. “Kyle, listen to me. Talk things over with Lara and let this go. Apologize to Bobby later. We’re a family. There is no need to make a spectacle of this in front of outsiders.”

I could not hold back anymore. I pulled out my phone, opened the album, and tossed it onto the table.

“Apologize? For what? I took these last month. That is Bobby at an internet cafe and at a pool hall.

“Are you telling me someone who is supposedly too mentally impaired to know what he is doing can go out by himself and spend an entire afternoon gaming?”

Aunt Clara slammed a hand on the table and shot to her feet.

She was practically spitting as she shouted, “Those stupid photos prove nothing! All I see is you two ganging up on someone who can’t defend himself! You ungrateful brat!”

The others immediately joined in. They were talking over one another as accusations came at me from every direction.

Bobby sat curled up in the corner of the couch with his head lowered as he sniffled and sobbed. He looked every bit the helpless victim.

I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.

Just then, Lara, who had been sitting quietly off to the side, suddenly stood up.

She walked over to the television with a tablet in her hand and mirrored the screen onto it.

“Everyone, there is no need to get worked up. Since you think the photos were doctored, that’s fine.”

She tapped the screen. Pages of transaction records appeared on the television.

“These are Bobby’s purchases from the past three months. Late-night pizza deliveries at 2 a.m., overnight sessions at a gaming lounge three times a week, and more than $37,000 spent on his gaming accounts.

“Someone who supposedly can’t function on his own can order food in the middle of the night, play ranked matches, and stay up all night gaming with friends?”

I immediately added, “I checked every account. They are all his. The money he spent on games alone would cover more than six months of Mom’s living expenses.”

The entire room went silent.

Our relatives exchanged uneasy looks. They were suddenly not quite sure what to say.

Aunt Clara refused to admit the truth.

“T-That still doesn’t prove anything! Maybe he only does those things when he is having a lucid spell.”

“Exactly! He can still have moments when he knows what he is doing.”

Lara did not argue. She simply gave them a faint smile.

Then, she glanced toward the front door and said calmly, “If that’s still not enough for you, that’s okay too. Someone just arrived with more evidence.”