“Pickup?”

“Yes. Grandma is eagerly waiting for everyone. She can’t wait.”

“Hey, Grandma? You mean Mom?”

“Correct. After talking to her, she agreed to take everyone in to knock some sense into you. She told me to send the luggage. Everyone, get ready for daily pizza making and cleaning.”

My parents and sister were shocked.

“We can’t go to Grandma’s.”

“That’s right. We don’t want to go.”

“Ah, I see. Well, you can do as you like, but without a house or jobs, how are you going to live? There’s also the payment for that card. How are you going to pay such a large amount?”

“What are you talking about? The card is in your name.”

“You thought it was in my name? Be careful. It’s under a different name,” I said.

“No way.”

My mother was startled. She took out the card I had given her and checked the name, losing color in her face.

“Wait. This card is in Freda’s name.”

“The credit card I gave you was actually found in Freda’s room. It was the first card she got when she started working, but she quit soon after, saying the job wasn’t a good fit, and it seems she hadn’t used it.”

“What? I’ve spent too much. What should I do about this?”

“What should you do, you ask? Since it’s your name on the card, you have no choice but to pay. And make sure you earn enough to cover the stay, all of you, without causing trouble to Grandma.”

Freda resisted until the end, but our parents, having no other option, silently awaited Grandma’s arrival.

Accompanied by Grandma, they headed to her house and restaurant in Queens. There, under the strict guidance of Grandma and the veteran employees, they were taught to work even as they shed tears.

The $110,000 fraudulently charged to my card was repaid to me by Freda under Grandma’s strict orders. Although I planned to settle everything by selling the house and land, Grandma managed to recover the living expenses I had paid previously and even took a portion of my parents’ salaries to be transferred to me.

Later, I moved to an apartment closer to my workplace and was able to start living alone again. The new life is going smoothly, and I am enjoying peaceful days.

Looking down at the city at dusk from the balcony, I felt relief from the long-felt pressure and a slight sense of loneliness. At that moment, the phone rang, and I hesitated a bit when I saw Grandma on the display.

“Hello, Grandma,” I answered.

She checked if I was doing well.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I replied.

“That’s good. Actually, it’s about Freda and the others. They are starting to change significantly, especially Freda, who has begun to actively help with work. It also seems that your parents are gradually reflecting,” said Grandma.

She continued, “Sylvia, it must have been tough. I believe I understand how you feel. Sometimes family can be a burden, yet it is also something we should support. I hope you can forgive them someday.”

I listened to Grandma’s words. Her voice carried hesitation and anxiety, but also a significant resolve.

“There’s no rush. Take your time and think it over until your heart settles,” Grandma said kindly.

I nodded deeply.

“Understood, Grandma. I’ll take my time and reconsider everything,” I replied, and then quietly hung up the phone.

As I looked out the window at the urban landscape, the sun slowly set on the horizon, and the darkness of night gradually enveloped the city. In the quiet of the dusk, a whirlwind of emotions churned within me. While anger and sadness still lingered, a small spark of hope for the future had begun to emerge.

Returning to my room, my eyes were drawn to a family photo. In the photo, a young Freda and I smiled along with our parents. Looking at those happy faces, I nostalgically remembered the joyful days of the past and thought, if only we could return to those times.

But reality quickly pulled me back.

As time passed, my life gradually began to regain its old rhythm. At work, I was appointed the leader of a new project, and personally, I started to lead a fulfilling day-to-day life.

One evening, after finishing the day’s work, my cell phone suddenly rang. Hesitating slightly at the unknown number, I answered.

“Hello, this is Sylvia.”

“It’s me.”

Freda’s voice came through, different from the confident, arrogant tone of the past. Now, it was soft yet unstable.

Unable to hide my surprise, I asked, “Freda, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Sorry for calling out of the blue. Actually, I want to meet you in person. I want to talk to you,” Freda said quietly.