As the front doors slid open, I saw him—my grandfather—standing behind the counter. His shoulders drooped, and his hands trembled slightly as he held a thick sheet of paper.

Just two months ago, Grandpa had retired at 74, after 52 years as a machinist. He never missed work unless he was truly sick. He was the quiet, dependable type, always showing up with a birthday card and money, never asking for anything in return.

When my aunt suggested a meaningful birthday gift for Grandpa, everyone agreed on a weeklong beach resort trip. My cousin Ashley handled all the arrangements, ensuring a suite with a private balcony for Grandpa. He was told not to worry about the cost.

But when I arrived, the hotel was different. Grandpa stood alone, suitcase packed, the bill in his hands. Everyone had left for the airport, leaving him with a $12,000 charge. He simply said, “I didn’t want to cause trouble. They had a good time.”

Furious, I called Ashley, who casually admitted they “figured he could cover it.” I paid the bill and, with the help of a lawyer, sent formal letters to demand reimbursement from my relatives. Three days later, they paid—except for Grandpa’s share, which I refused to touch.