Ah. The classic "I'm poor so I'm entitled, you're rich so you owe me" logic.
My voice went cold as steel.
"Uncle Oliver, even blood brothers settle their accounts."
"This was a loan, not a gift. If that's your attitude, I'll have to pursue this through legal channels."
"I have the transfer records. I have the chat logs. The court will decide."
The moment I said "court," he exploded.
"Hailey! You ungrateful little—! You'd sue your own cousin?!"
"Have you no conscience? Your Aunt Vivien held you when you were a baby!"
"You'd drag family into court over this? You file that lawsuit, and I swear I'll show up at your office with a banner!"
"I'll let the whole world see how the great Director Finch treats her poor relatives!"
His shouting was so loud it hurt my ears.
This was my dear uncle.
To dodge a debt, there was no tactic too low for him to stoop to.
"You don't need to threaten me, Uncle."
"I have nothing to hide—my conscience is clear."
"Since that's how you want to play it, there's nothing left to discuss. Wait for the summons."
I hung up.
Whatever lingering attachment I'd felt toward family loyalty evaporated completely.
Grandpa had seen right through them all along. That's why he'd left that will.