Or all those summer nights on the porch, watching the stars come out? You taught me every constellation.”

“And you remembered them all,” he said softly.

“Just like you remembered to water my roses every day while I’ve been stuck in this bed.”

He squeezed my hand. “You’ve always had a good heart, Ellie. And you’ve always been the one person I could trust.”

Then he did something that made my heart stop.

He reached up and took off those dark glasses, revealing eyes that were sharp and clear — and looking right at me.

“You’re probably wondering how I saw all this coming,” he said, grinning like a kid with a secret.

“You… you can see?” I stammered, nearly falling out of my chair.

“Yes, and I’ve seen everything,” Grandpa replied. “Every greedy glance, every hand sneaking into that safe. They didn’t think an old blind man could catch them, but I did.” Grandpa gestured to the safe.

“Let’s see how much is left, Ellie.”

I walked to the safe, my legs wobbly, and opened the door wide. Inside was nothing but empty air.

Grandpa laughed.

“I had 10 million dollars in fake bills in there,” Grandpa announced proudly. “And they took every last one.

The real money is in a bank vault downtown. And it’s all yours, Ellie.”

I couldn’t speak. My throat felt like I’d swallowed sand.

“You’re the only one I trust to use it wisely,” he continued.

“And if you want to leave this toxic mess of a family behind, don’t look back. Heaven knows I’ve wanted to shake their dust off my shoes for years.”

A few days later, Grandpa’s health suddenly started improving with a new treatment. The doctors were shocked, but I wasn’t.

You can’t keep a good trickster down.

I bought two plane tickets to Bali the next day. First class, because Grandpa insisted we start our new life in style.

The family exploded when they realized what had happened. Sharon threatened to sue.

Dad finally found his voice, but only to demand his “fair share.” My cousins showed their true colors with a rainbow of creative curse words.

We left anyway, with nothing but our suitcases and the satisfaction of knowing justice had been served.

Now, I’m writing this from a beach chair in Bali, watching Grandpa teach local kids how to build the perfect sandcastle.

He’s got more energy than all of them combined, and his laugh carries across the sand like music. His recovery seems even more miraculous in the tropical sun.

“Pass me another coconut drink, would you, Ellie?” he calls out. “Planning the perfect revenge makes a man thirsty!”

I bring him his drink and sit beside him, watching the sunset paint the sky in colors I never saw back home.

“Was it worth it?” I ask.

“All that planning, pretending to be blind?”

He takes a sip and grins. “Look around, kiddo. You’re smiling.

You’re free. And those vultures back home are probably still arguing about fake money. I’d say that’s worth everything.”

I lean back and close my eyes, feeling the warm breeze on my face.

For the first time in my life, I know exactly what he means about living well being the best revenge.

And you know what? He was right about the practical jokes too.