I flashed a sunny smile at Aunt Laura.
"Mom, you did say any room, right? You're not taking that back now, are you?"
Her mouth twitched, but after a moment, she nodded helplessly.
"Good! We've been in the car all day—we're exhausted. You and Dad should rest early too!"
And before anyone could respond, I grabbed my friend, shut the door with a satisfying bang, and left the whole family frozen in place.
From that day on, our new life officially began.
For the next week, Carmela and I went on a glorious shopping spree.
After eight years of scrimping and suffering, it felt heavenly to finally buy whatever we wanted without looking at price tags, without hesitation, just enjoying retail therapy.
We came back with an absurd amount of shopping bags—several carloads' worth—dressed like two pampered heiresses on a spree.
Every time Trisha made some sour remark about us "wasting money," I shut her down with sharp, merciless comebacks.
When she couldn't win with words, she switched to tricks.
Day one, she pretended to be weak and "accidentally" dropped a vase from the upstairs balcony, aiming straight for us. Carmela caught it one-handed without even flinching.