My “Golden Child” Brother Gambled Away My Dying Grandma’s $200,000 Life Savings. My Parents Are Now Paying For His Defense While Calling Me A Traitor For Filing A Lawsuit. Am I The Jerk For Refusing To Forgive Him?

I asked if anyone remembered that Grandma lived in a cold house eating cheap food while Kyle gambled away her life savings. I said it really slow and clear so everyone could hear. Several relatives nodded, including Uncle Robert and Ella, and one of my cousins said something about how Grandma had complained about being cold last winter.

But my parents acted like I just said the most cruel and heartless thing imaginable. Mom looked at me with this expression of pure disgust and said I was being unsympathetic to Kyle’s mental health struggles. Dad said I was choosing to judge and punish instead of showing compassion for someone suffering from a disease.

Uncle Robert made the call anyway, turning away from my dad and walking toward the kitchen with the phone to his ear. I could hear him talking to someone, explaining the situation in his cop voice, all business and facts. He mentioned power of attorney abuse, elder financial exploitation, documented transfers to gambling sites, $200,000 over 6 months.

He said he had a family member who worked at the bank with complete documentation of every transaction. My dad followed him to the kitchen doorway, still protesting, saying Robert was making a terrible mistake and this would destroy the family. Mom stayed on the floor with Kyle, holding him while he cried into her shoulder.

I just stood there with those bank statements in my hand wondering how we’d gotten to this point where showing evidence of theft was somehow the cruel thing to do. The front door opened and Britney walked in, carrying two grocery bags and calling out that she brought the snacks Mom asked for.

She stopped in the entryway and her mouth fell open as she took in the scene. Kyle was still on the floor with Mom wrapped around him while he sobbed into her shoulder. Dad stood next to them with his arms crossed, looking ready to fight anyone who came near.

Uncle Robert was coming back from the kitchen with his phone still in his hand. Aunt Linda was crying quietly in the corner chair. Ella stood near me holding more bank statements. Three other relatives were scattered around looking like they wanted to disappear into the furniture.

Britney set the grocery bags down slowly and asked what was going on and why was everyone crying. Kyle lifted his head and tried to say something but just made this choking sound and buried his face back in Mom’s shoulder. Dad stepped forward and told Britney this was a private family matter and maybe she should leave.

Ella walked over to Britney and said she needed to see something important. She held out the bank statements and started explaining in this calm, quiet voice that Kyle had power of attorney for his grandma and he transferred $200,000 from her accounts to gambling sites over 6 months while Grandma was dying.

Britney took the papers and her hands started shaking as she looked through them. Her face went completely white and she asked if this was real. Ella nodded and showed her the transfer dates and amounts. 50,000 on January 10th to Kyle’s account, then to Bet King Casino 3 hours later. 30,000 on January 25th. 40,000 on February 3rd. Every single transfer documented with dates and times.

Britney looked at Kyle and asked if this was true, if he really stole from his dying grandmother to gamble. Kyle finally managed to speak and said it wasn’t like that, he has a gambling problem and it’s a disease and he couldn’t control it.

Britney cut him off and asked how long he’d been lying to her. Her voice got louder and she said she loaned him $5,000 last month that he claimed was for a business investment—was that gambling money too? Kyle didn’t answer, and Mom jumped in saying this wasn’t the time to attack Kyle when he was clearly suffering and needed support.

Dad moved next to Mom and said everyone who really loved Kyle should focus on solutions and getting him help instead of blame and punishment. Mom looked at Britney and said if she cared about Kyle at all she would stand by him during his recovery from this terrible disease.

Uncle Robert walked back into the living room and announced that Detective Sarah Moore was coming over to take statements and review all the evidence. He said that while the power of attorney made prosecution complicated, the documented pattern of transfers to gambling sites during Grandma’s final illness created a strong case for elder financial exploitation.

Dad’s face turned red and he pointed at the door and told Robert to get out of his house right now. He said Robert had no right to bring police into a private family matter. Robert didn’t move and said that Grandma was his sister and he wasn’t going to let her death and the theft of her life savings get swept under the rug to protect Kyle.

Dad took a step toward Robert with his fists clenched. Aunt Linda stood up and positioned herself between them. The living room split right down the middle like someone drew a line on the floor. Uncle Robert stayed near the kitchen doorway; Aunt Linda moved to stand next to him. Ella walked over to their side, still holding the bank statements. Britney looked at Kyle one more time then crossed the room to stand with Ella.

I was already on that side of the room. We all stood there facing my parents, who had literally positioned themselves in front of Kyle like bodyguards. A few other relatives looked at each other nervously and stayed in their seats, not sure where to stand or what to do. My cousin from Ohio moved closer to the door like she was planning an escape route.

Mom kept her arms around Kyle and glared at all of us like we were attacking her child. Dad stood with his shoulders back and his jaw set in that way that meant he was done listening to anyone. The doorbell rang and everyone froze.

Dad said nobody was answering that door. Uncle Robert said that was probably Detective Moore and refusing to let her in wouldn’t help Kyle’s situation. Dad walked to the front door and stood in front of it with his arms crossed. The doorbell rang again.

A woman’s voice called through the door saying she was Detective Moore and she was here to take statements about a financial exploitation case. Dad yelled through the door that this was a private residence and she needed a warrant. Detective Moore responded calmly that she could take statements at the police station instead if he preferred, and that making this difficult wouldn’t help his son.