“My girls!” he said, pulling us into hugs. “What a treat!”
“Grandpa!” I hugged him tightly. “You look great!
So handsome!”
“Of course!” he chuckled. “Even in a hospital gown, I was charming nurses left and right!”
Inside, we laughed and chatted, but that nasty message on his car kept nagging at me. I couldn’t shake it.
“Hey, I need to handle something quick,” I said, standing. “Mom, stay with Grandpa? I’ll be back soon.”
“Sure, sweetie,” Mom said.
I marched to the security office at the entrance, where a bored guard sat at the desk. “I need to see the parking lot camera footage,” I said. He raised an eyebrow.
“Can’t show that to just anyone, ma’am.”
I leaned in, voice low. “My grandpa lives here. He’s been really sick, and someone wrote a cruel message on his car.
I need to know who.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, just this once.”
We scanned days of footage until I saw her—a snooty older woman strolling to Grandpa’s car, taking her time to write that awful message. “Who’s that?” I asked.
“Nadia from 4C,” the guard said. “Always causing trouble.”
“There’s more,” he added as I turned to leave. “I overheard neighbors in the lobby last week.
Nadia’s been harassing your grandpa for months—complaining about his newspaper left out, his doormat crooked, even trying to get him fined for a ‘wrong-colored’ potted plant.”
“Seriously?” I said, anger flaring. “Why hasn’t anyone stopped her?”
“Folks steer clear of her,” he shrugged. “Your grandpa’s too kind to make a fuss, but everyone’s sick of her attitude.”
Grandpa’s kind, but I’m not, I thought, storming to Nadia’s apartment.
When she opened the door, I didn’t hold back. “I’m Toren’s granddaughter,” I said, voice steady but furious. “I saw what you wrote on his car.
You’ve got no right to shame him like that.”
She shrugged, smirking. “If he can’t meet our standards, maybe he shouldn’t live here.”
She slammed the door in my face. I was fuming.
Talking to her was useless, so I made a plan. All I needed was duct tape and proof. The next day, I printed a screenshot of the security footage, Nadia’s face clear, and wrote in big, bold letters: “SHAME!
SHAME! Nadia from 4C bullies sick elderly neighbors!” I taped it inside the elevator where everyone would see it. By the next day, the building was buzzing.
Neighbors ignored Nadia, and she became the talk of the complex—for all the wrong reasons. When I visited Grandpa a few days later, I overheard two older ladies in the lobby. “Did you hear about Nadia?” one said.
“Harassing poor Toren for months!”
“Disgusting,” the other said. “She’s sunk to a new low.”
I smiled to myself. Justice done.
Upstairs, Grandpa greeted me with a big hug. “Elise, my favorite visitor!” he said, grinning. “Just keeping you in check, old man,” I teased.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Like a saint, unlike some folks around here,” he said, leaning in. “Heard about Nadia? Someone put up a sign calling out her nonsense.
Whole building’s turned on her. About time, if you ask me.”
I played dumb. “Oh?
What happened?”
He winked, like he might’ve guessed. “Let’s just say she got what she deserved.”
Grandpa still doesn’t know it was me. That day taught me you can’t always be nice to people like Nadia who don’t respect others.
Sometimes, you’ve got to fight back to protect the ones you love.
