It was a hot day in July when my rich cousin, Veronica, threw back her head and laughed at my old Dodge Neon. “Sweetheart, is that your car or a relic from the Stone Age?” she said, her eyes dancing with amusement. I felt a rush of heat rise to my cheeks. I was used to her snide comments, but this one stung deeper. Little did I know, her laughter would echo back in an unexpected way. My heart raced as I leaned against my car, wondering just how the tables would turn.
The sun beat down on the asphalt as I fought the urge to snap back at Veronica. She…