“Look at these poor kids crashing in our mansion,” my nephew posted online; my children saw it at dinner. I just smiled, went into my office, and made one call: “Stop all payments.” My sister screamed, “Payments for what?” Twenty minutes later, she tore into my driveway, dragging Tyler with her. I opened a folder, set it on the table… and said, “This is only the beginning.”
The blue glow of Maya’s phone sliced across our dinner table like a warning flare. One second she was pushing…