The next day, they came back panicked. A neighbor had footage of the crash. But instead of owning up, they asked me to take the blame. “Think of Nick’s future,” my mother said. So I smiled and said, “Of course.” Then I told the police the truth.

Nick stole my car and crashed it. No license. No remorse. My family was furious. But I didn’t care. For once, I chose myself. Sometimes karma isn’t loud — it’s a teenager crashing your car while eating your cake. And when it shows up? I hand it a fork.