Karma’s Knock at the Door

 

By the time I turned sixteen, I had learned to expect nothing from Aunt Cheryl. Birthdays, holidays—none of it mattered to her as long as her kids were happy and spoiled. That morning, I woke up to the sound of laughter downstairs. It wasn’t for me, of course. Cheryl and her children were planning their next extravagant vacation.

There wasn’t even a “Happy Birthday” from her. I sat in the dusty attic, staring out the small, cracked window, trying to hold back my tears. I had almost given up on the day when I heard a firm knock at the front door.

Curiosity got the best of me, so I crept down the stairs, careful not to be seen. When Cheryl answered the door, her cheerful demeanor vanished in an instant. Standing there was a well-dressed woman, her expression cold and stern.

“Cheryl Roberts?” the woman asked, her voice sharp. Cheryl hesitated but nodded.

“I’m Amelia Carter, the executor of your late sister’s estate,” the woman continued. “I’ve been reviewing some discrepancies regarding the trust fund left for her daughter.”

Cheryl’s face turned ghostly white. “I—I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered, but the woman wasn’t having it.

“You’ve been misusing funds meant for her,” Amelia said, pulling out a stack of documents. “Every cent is accounted for, and you’ll be required to repay the full amount—immediately.”

Cheryl tried to argue, but Amelia cut her off. “And until this matter is resolved, custody of her niece will be transferred to a legal guardian appointed by the court. You’re no longer fit to care for her.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. For the first time in years, hope sparked inside me.

The woman turned to me, her expression softening. “Pack your things, sweetheart. You’re coming with me.”

As I walked past Cheryl, her kids stared at me, confusion and disbelief etched on their faces. Cheryl, for once, was speechless. It was the sweetest revenge I could have asked for.

Karma had finally knocked on our door—and it knocked loud.