I Thanked My Aunt For The Bicycle She Gave Me, But She Replied, “I Actually Gave You A Mercedes-Benz, You Know?”

The Influencer’s Hidden Life

On the plane, I checked my sister Emma’s Instagram. Her account, boasting over 100,000 followers as an influencer selling a luxury lifestyle, was overflowing with dazzling lies.

One photo in particular caught my attention. The background was an upscale residential neighbourhood.

Front and centre sat a pristine white Mercedes-Benz G-Class, so new I could almost smell the leather. Emma was leaning casually against the hood, a champagne flute in hand, wearing a smile as radiant as it was triumphant.

The caption read: “The best reward for myself. Hard work never betrays you. #mercedesbenz #gclass #luxurylife #gifttomyself.”

After landing at the airport, I hurried toward my childhood home in a rental car. The moment I parked in front of the house, the first thing that leapt into my sight was that white car sitting proudly in front of the garage.

I took a deep breath and got out. Before I even opened the front door, I heard laughter from inside—my mother’s voice and Emma’s light, excited giggles.

When I knocked, the laughter stopped abruptly. After a few seconds of silence, I heard the sound of the lock turning.

“Oh, Tracy? Why are you…?” My mother’s face, when she opened the door, wasn’t coloured by surprise so much as pure fear, but she quickly covered it with a strange smile.

“I heard from Emma that you were too busy with work to come back. Your father’s on a sudden business trip today, too, but, well, welcome home.”

She hugged me. Her sweaters smelled of expensive perfume, yet her arms were faintly trembling, and there was not the slightest warmth of genuine welcome in them.

When I stepped into the living room, Emma stood up from the sofa. On her finger sparkled an emerald-cut diamond so large I’d never seen anything like it before.

“So you came after all. Weren’t you supposed to be busy?” She asked, her eyes seemingly desperate to search for the truth behind my arrival.

“I pushed myself a bit. I also wanted to thank Aunt Sandra directly for her gift.” I replied.

Emma’s face stiffened ever so slightly.

“Oh, that bicycle. Aunt Sandra really is worried about your health. But she’s coming later today, and we have so much to catch up on, so let’s not bring that up, okay?”

Just then, a man emerged from the kitchen with perfectly styled hair, a confident posture, and a suit that fitted too well.

“Emma’s fiancé, Ryan Fischer. Nice to meet you, Tracy. I’ve heard all about you from Emma. A cyber security expert, right? I’m in the investment world myself, so maybe we’ll have a chance to talk business someday.”

He extended his right hand with a polished smile.

“And that beautiful Mercedes outside, whose is it?” I asked casually.

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Emma answered as if shot from a spring.

“Oh, that’s Ryan’s. His work as an investment consultant is going incredibly well right now. He bought the latest model brand new as an investment in himself. Isn’t it amazing?”

“Well, actually, Emma deserves half the credit.” Ryan looked slightly bashful but clearly proud of her.

“She’s been doing great with her influencer sponsorships, and as an engagement gift, she put down a pretty substantial down payment. Honestly, it’s a car far too good for me.”

“I see. That really is wonderful, to be able to exchange such incredible gifts with each other. What an ideal relationship.” I said, never letting my smile fade.

My mother pretended to busy herself with dinner preparations, carefully avoiding eye contact with me.

On the sideboard, I noticed a wedding brochure for Emma’s upcoming ceremony tossed there carelessly. A top-tier luxury hotel in New York, 300 guests, and a custom-made wedding dress.

In my mind, every single detail converted neatly into one number: $500,000.

“Tracy, don’t just stand there. Come on, your aunt will be here any minute now. Why don’t you get changed? That plain outfit of yours will ruin Thanksgiving.” My mother said this coldly, brushing imaginary raindrops off my clothes.