“Oh my God,” Mom gasped. “Who would do such a thing?”

I clenched my fists. I could feel my cheeks burn with rage.

“Some entitled jerk with nothing better to do than harass a sick old man, that’s who.”

Then, I felt Mom’s soft hand on my arm.

“Honey, calm down,” she said. “Let’s not upset your grandfather.”

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

“You’re right. Let’s go see him.”

We quickly headed up to Grandpa’s apartment. I rang the bell, waiting for him to open the door.

“My girls!” he smiled from ear to ear. “What a wonderful surprise!”

“Grandpa!” I hugged him tight. “You look so good! So handsome!”

“Well, of course I do!” he chuckled. “When have I ever not looked handsome? Even in my hospital gown, I was turning heads left and right!”

As we headed inside, I couldn’t stop thinking of the cruel message on his car. I couldn’t erase that image from my mind.

“Megan? Are you listening, sweetheart?” Grandpa’s voice snapped me back to reality.

“Sorry, Grandpa. I was just… thinking. How are you feeling?”

We chatted for a while, but my mind kept drifting to that message. I needed to do something about it.

“Hey, I need to take care of something real quick,” I said, standing up. “Mom, can you stay with Grandpa? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Sure, honey,” Mom said.

In no time, I headed down to the security office near the entrance, where I met a bored-looking guy sitting behind the desk.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I need to see the security camera footage from the parking lot.”

He raised an eyebrow as he straightened his back.

“Sorry, ma’am. We can’t just show that to anyone who asks.”

I leaned in, lowering my voice.

“Look, my grandfather lives here. He’s been very ill, and someone vandalized his car with a horrible message. I need to know who did it.”

The guard hesitated, then nodded.

“Alright, just this once.”

We reviewed the footage from the last few days when I suddenly saw an older, snooty-looking woman, heading towards Grandpa’s car. She took her sweet time to write that awful message on his car.

“Who is this?” I asked the guard.

“That’s Briana from 4C,” he said. “Always causing trouble.”

I thanked him and turned to leave, but he stopped me.

“Wait, there’s something else. I overheard some of the neighbors talking in the lobby last week. Apparently, this Briana woman has been giving your grandfather a hard time for months now.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He scratched his chin thoughtfully.