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Locked Out Over the Same Coat Novel Cover

Locked Out Over the Same Coat

Fiona arrives at her daughter Hannah’s home for Christmas Eve, only to be forced out for wearing a coat identical to her mother-in-law's. To keep the peace, she reluctantly agrees to wear a shabby alternative provided by her son-in-law, Thomas. But the humiliation doesn't stop there. Giselle Johnson soon accuses Fiona of theft, claiming two envelopes containing twenty thousand dollars have vanished from the pockets. Fiona must now face a trap set by her own ungrateful family.
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Chapter 3

I put on my coat and prepared to leave this horrible place.

Hannah stepped forward to block my path. "You're leaving? Return the money to Giselle before you do, or you won't be going anywhere."

I couldn't help but feel as if I was looking at a stranger when I looked at Hannah. I couldn't believe that my own daughter would treat me this way when I had raised her for over two decades.

The truth was, I had accepted the dinner invitation because I wanted to inform Hannah and Thomas that our old home was getting demolished. Thus, they could use the compensation money to buy a new house near a school.

Firstly, it would be convenient for my grandson, Oliver Clifford, to attend school in the future. Secondly, they could avoid getting into arguments with Giselle if they had a place of their own.

I didn't expect to get caught up in such a mess before I could deliver the good news.

"Why do I have to return the money when I didn't take it?" I demanded.

Giselle scoffed and asked, "Who else would take it but you? In fact, Ollie told me earlier that you're the thief. He saw you hiding the money away after you stole it."

She then picked up Oliver and cooed, "She's the thief, isn't she, Ollie?"

Oliver pointed at me and babbled, "Thief… Thief…"

My heart twisted painfully.

Just to frame me, they were even willing to drag Oliver into this mess despite the fact that he was only two years old.

Unfortunately, Hannah became even more convinced that I was the thief. She delivered her ultimatum, saying, "You have to return the money if you want to leave tonight. Don't blame us for getting rough if you refuse to do so!"

Giselle's eyes flashed. "Doesn't she have a couple of old houses in the countryside? Will she be able to pay back the 20 thousand dollars she stole from me if she sells them?"

Hannah's eyes brightened for a split second before she fixed a disdainful expression on her face.

"Those houses are leaky and dilapidated. They're not worth a lot of money. She can probably only sell them for 15 thousand dollars. Besides, the real estate market hasn't been doing so well recently, so no one will buy them. We should just force her to return the money right now."

Just then, Thomas' uncle, Isaac Clifford, suddenly spoke up.

"My wife and I have been thinking about buying a house in the countryside to spend our senior years in. Are you interested in selling the house? I'm willing to take it off your hands for ten thousand dollars."

Giselle immediately agreed. "It's a deal. Ten thousand dollars is better than nothing!"

She then turned to address Thomas, saying, "Thomas, call your cousin and ask him what we need to prepare to transfer the ownership of the property. Tell him to draw up a contract for us. All the better if he can get it done by today, so we don't have to keep worrying about it."

The houses that they were talking about were actually worth three million dollars, and yet they were treating them as if they were utterly worthless.

My entire body shook with anger as I listened to them speak as if my properties belonged to them. "That house belongs to me. What makes you think that you have the right to sell it?"

Hannah stepped forward and retorted, "What do you mean they belong to you? Dad's name is written on the deed. At most, you only own a third of it while I own the last third.

"I'm making the decision now to sell it to Uncle Isaac for ten thousand dollars. Don't forget that you still have to return another ten thousand dollars to Giselle."

My patience had reached its limit, and I didn't want to continue wasting my breath on them. I grabbed my coat from the couch and prepared to leave.

Giselle leaped to her feet when she saw me holding the same coat as her. "Are you still going to argue that you're not the thief? You're holding my coat right now!"

I looked at the coat that I was holding before directing my gaze to the same one that was hanging on the back of her chair. My expression darkened when I hissed, "This isn't your coat. Look!"

I reached into the coat pocket and pulled out an ID and a high-speed rail ticket. Both items had my name printed on them.

Thomas was the one who convinced me to change coats, explaining that Giselle would get upset if I stole her spotlight.

Since the situation had already escalated to this point, there was no need for me to worry about Giselle's feelings any longer.

"I bought this coat at a shopping mall," I said. "I still have the receipt. Also, your coat is hanging on the back of your chair!"

Giselle turned to look at her chair. An awkward expression flickered across her face when she noticed that her coat was folded neatly on the back of her chair.

Hannah's face had turned a ruddy red, and she signaled me to stop speaking several times.

Meanwhile, Thomas wore a disgruntled expression. He gestured at the other Cliffords, who were seated around the dining table, multiple times, trying to get me to stop.

I ignored their warnings and continued, "My daughter criticized me the moment I stepped through the door because of you, asking me why I'd bought the same coat as you. Your son insisted that I change into something else so that I wouldn't steal your spotlight—as if your entire worth hinged on this coat."

I had essentially trampled Giselle's pride beneath my feet with my blunt words.

Losing her temper, Giselle dashed toward me. She grabbed my coat and hurled it to the ground. She then proceeded to stomp on it several times as if she wasn't done expressing her anger yet.

She suddenly stopped when she felt something beneath her feet. Gleefully, she rummaged through the coat and pulled out a stack of papers, raising it high into the air so everyone could get a good look at them.

"Are you still going to deny that you stole the money? How are you going to explain this then?"

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