The wallpaper was a stunningly expensive, imported silk, a masterpiece of art that had been commissioned from a famous artist. It was the centerpiece of the living room, a piece of art that was the pride of the entire family. So when her sister-in-law, a woman named Isabella, and her two children came to visit, she was on high alert.
Isabella was a woman who had a history of being jealous, and she had a history of making snide remarks about her sister’s success. So when her sister’s children ruined the wallpaper with markers, she was immediately suspicious.
She confronted Isabella, who immediately blamed the children. “Oh, children will be children,” she said with a shrug. “They’re just being kids.” She then handed her a small amount of money, a sum that was so small it was a blatant insult.
But the truth was far more infuriating. The next day, when she went to a professional to assess the damage, she found a half-empty bottle of markers on the floor. It was a special brand of markers that was designed to be easily wiped off of walls, but as she tried to wipe it, she found that it didn’t come off. The professional told her that Isabella’s children had likely used a different, permanent marker, one that was designed to be impossible to remove.
The revenge was not about money. It was about a public, decisive act. The next day, at a large family gathering, she brought out a large, framed picture of the ruined wall, with the children’s scribbles clearly visible. She placed it on a table in the center of the room, a silent accusation. When Isabella saw it, her face turned a fiery red. The revenge was a public shaming that cost Isabella more than any amount of money could have.
