When my 19-year-old sister broke my fiancé’s $5,000 hearing aid for a silly bet, she thought our parents would help her again. I gave her a difficult choice that changed everything. She thought tears and tactics would exonerate her, but I held firm.

I’m 25 and engaged to 26-year-old Drenan. He makes you believe in happy endings. He has a subtle sense of humor. He stays cool while I’m stressed about work deadlines. He treats everyone well, from store clerks to my problematic family.

Drenan has hearing loss. His hearing has deteriorated in recent years, making communicating difficult without his help. He misses words and requests repetition. He gets hour-long headaches reading lips.

“It’s like figuring out a puzzle with half the pieces gone,” he said, massaging his head after leaving his device at home during a difficult family dinner.

This isn’t a cheap hearing aid from late-night advertising. Costs over $5,000. This high-tech medical equipment connects to his phone, adjusts to different locales, and restores his life.

It’s no luxury for Drenan. Like glasses for the blind, it’s essential.

Virelle, my younger sister, is the story’s troublemaker.

She’s 19 and spoilt. Her family has always considered her the baby, who needed protection from life’s harsh lessons.

My parents have shielded her from harm for nearly two decades. After every mistake, someone else fixes it, and everyone she hurts is advised to “let it go” and forgive her.

Want an example? Last year, Virelle “borrowed” my car without asking while I worked. I returned to an empty driveway and 17 missed calls.

She called me minutes later from a crash site.

“Hey, don’t get mad, but I kinda crashed your car,” she remarked, sounding like she ate the last pizza slice.

The damage was nearly $4,000. I had a massive passenger side ding, a smashed headlight, and a ruined front bumper.

“Virelle, what were you thinking?” Looking at my trusty Honda’s charred remains, I asked.

She shrugged. I needed to get to Marith’s place, but you weren’t home to ask. It wasn’t my intention.”

“But you stole my car!”

Come on, Lyssia. We’re sisters. I knew you’d agree if you were there.”

Was she charged for repairs? Nope. Parents arrived within hours, checkbooks in hand.

My mom signed the repair shop payment, saying, “She’s just young. “Don’t let a mistake ruin her future. This will teach her.”

My dad nods. Accidents happen. The crucial thing is no one was seriously hurt.”

Virelle smiled about her “wild day,” posting Instagram stories like a wonderful experience instead of a thousands-dollar disaster.

You probably guessed what occurred with Drenan’s hearing aid. The trend was evident.

Virelle and our cousin Kessia came over a week ago after large shopping trips. They stormed into the main door with bags from three malls, discussing deals and Kessia’s work turmoil.

After a long day at engineering, Drenan rested in our bedroom. Lip-reading in meetings always exhausts him. In its compact black bag, his hearing aid charged on the nightstand.

In the kitchen starting dinner, I heard Kessia’s voice from the corridor.

Wow, is this Lyssia’s nice hearing aid she keeps bragging about? Her voice rang loudly.

My stomach dropped. I dried my hands on a dish towel and ran to the bedroom, but I sensed problems.

“It’s so tiny,” Virelle murmured, with that reckless curiosity I knew too well. “How much did this little thing cost again?”

“Don’t touch it,” I said, but they were already around the nightstand.

Drenan appeared frightened in the doorway. Please don’t touch that. Medical instrument, not toy.”

Kessia took the case and turned it over. It probably breaks easily. What if it overheated? Could a hairdryer ruin it?

“Kessia, put it down,” Drenan said, taking the case. “That’s not for fun.”

Virelle laughed, her high-pitched sound before doing something stupid. Come on, Drenan. We’re curious. Do not exaggerate.”

“I’m not being over-the-top,” Drenan said, anxious. “That gadget costs more than some cars. I survive on it.”

Despite his concern, Kessia said, “But like, in theory, heat would mess up the electronics, right? Like if someone accidentally used a hairdryer?

I entered and saw Drenan’s pale face. Stop it now, both of you. Put the case down and ignore Drenan’s stuff.”

Virelle rolled her eyes at me. “God, Lyssia, we won’t break your boyfriend’s precious toy. Just looking.”

“Fiancé,” I said. It’s not a toy. Help me cook or go home.”

They retreated, but I caught their sneaky stare. Trouble generally came with that glare. I should have grabbed and locked the hearing aid.

I returned to the kitchen, thinking I’d solved it.

Later that night, Drenan reported strange hearing aid behavior. The sound continued fading out, and he heard a new static.

I said, “Maybe it just needs cleaning,” but I got a horrible feeling.

The smartphone died at bedtime. Drenan switched settings, recharged it, and checked for damage to fix it. Nothing worked.

“I’ll have to see the audiologist tomorrow,” he remarked, devastated. “I just hope it’s under warranty.”

The next morning, I learned. Kessia’s Facebook message chilled me.

“Virelle lost the bet 😂😂😂 She really used the hairdryer without you. Heat does ruin it, as I suspected! 🤷‍♀️”

Before it hit me, I read the message three times on my phone. Rage clouded my vision. My hands shook so much I couldn’t grasp the phone.

After reading that text and realizing what transpired, I drove to my parents’ house in a rage that scared me. Every time I read Kessia’s note, I felt furious.

Virelle was in her pajamas on the living room couch, surfing TikTok like she hadn’t just ruined someone’s life when I entered.

“Virelle!” I shouted, echoing through the house. “Did you hairdryer Drenan’s hearing aid?”

She rarely looked up from her phone. Yes, I did. Just a test. Avoid becoming upset.”

“A test?” I spoke louder. “You destroyed a $5,000 medical device! Drenan can’t hear, has terrible headaches again, and our wedding is in two weeks!”

Virelle eventually looked at me, rolling her eyes in her annoying manner. God, Lyssia, you’re overacting. Only a device. If it’s important, get a new one.”

I thought rage would knock me out. “Just a gadget? That’s like calling glasses glass or a wheelchair a chair, Virelle. Drenan lives with his hearing aid!”

She responded, “Whatever,” returning to her phone. “I didn’t mean to break it forever.”

You’re paying for it,” I said, my voice steady and cold. “Every penny.”

That caught her eye. “What? No way! I don’t have that much money. My college savings. I won’t risk my future for a stupid gizmo.”

Before I could answer, my parents rushed in from the kitchen, lured by our loud noises.

“What’s all this yelling about?” my frightened mom said.

I quickly informed them what Virelle done, watching their reactions. I expected outrage and disappointment, yet they defended her.

“Honey, please,” my mom touched my arm. “She didn’t mean it. Can’t you hold back the wedding till we work this out? Maybe a cheap hearing aid for now?

My dad nods. “Taking her college money is cruel, Lyssia. You’re making her pick between school and your wedding.”

“My big day?” Staring at them, I was stunned. “Not a party! Drenan’s health is at danger. That device is essential to him, and Virelle didn’t touch it!”

Virelle took her chance, phony tears in her eyes. “You’re all conspiring against me! I erred! You’re attempting to wreck my whole life!”

She flopped on the couch, weeping excessively. “I can’t believe my sister wants to ruin my future over a mistake!”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” I responded coldly. “You broke his hearing aid in our bedroom for a bet. You knew what you did. Nonpayment will result in court action.”

When I threatened to sue, Virelle chuckled.

“You’re not really gonna sue your own sister,” she added, wiping fake tears. “Mom and Dad won’t let you hurt me.”

I searched my phone for the lawyer who assisted me with my lease last year.

“Watch me,” I said. “You’ve gotten away with wrecking cars and breaking stuff your whole life. This time, no. Either you buy Drenan a new hearing aid or the cops will know about your damage.”

I started dialing, and Virelle lost her cool.

Ok, fine! I’ll pay!” she shouted, jumping off the couch. “Happy now? You’re taking my college money! I hope you enjoy wrecking your sister’s future!”

But I felt bad. This made me tired and depressed. Virelle had to pay using her college savings. Every dime.

She moped for a week, saying I may ruin her college career. Family gossip spreads, and most of our family knew what she done.

Even my aunt, who avoids family confrontations, stepped up.

“If Virelle can’t afford college,” she observed during Sunday supper, “maybe she should stop breaking stuff she can’t pay for.”

Drenan got his hearing aid three days later. Our wedding was perfect. And Virelle? She’s silent recently, realizing actions have repercussions.

I’m not sorry. No, wait.

Sometimes our loved ones require the hardest lessons. It was time someone made Virelle own her choices.

The lesson is plain. You don’t steal something, break it for fun, and then blame others.

Virelle ultimately suffered penalties, which may deter her from injuring others.