I hit the streets with cash in hand, hunting for a barbershop.

But even after scouring the town for hours, every shop was closed.

The more I looked, the more ticked off I got—what used to be a superstition about remembering your uncle turned into a curse about killing him!

Finally, luck was on my side, and I stumbled upon a barbershop that was still open.

The owner looked at me like I was a ghost.

They were right in the middle of their holiday feast, and the whole family gathered around.

"Hey, kid, you here for a trim?"

Watching their cozy family scene, a twinge of jealousy hit me, and I softened my voice.

"Yeah, buzz it all off, please."

The barber hesitated, but eventually, he got to work and shaved my head.

Walking out, I rubbed my bald scalp.

It was chillingly cold...

Just like that, I called up some pals who were free to hang out.

Going home was out of the question—if my uncle caught wind, it'd spark another battle royale.

We caught a comedy flick, something to lighten the mood.

Coming out of the cinema, trouble found us.

A car was swerving down the road, nearly clipping us.

My eyes aren't the best at night, but that car looked awfully familiar.

It resembled the one my aunt Susan bought for Jack.

Seconds later, it was gone.

I let it go, booked a motel room, and picked up some barbecue.

That's how I spent the night chilling with friends.

I slept like a rock, only to wake up to explosive news.

Jack had died in a car accident.

I got a panicked call from Mom first thing in the morning. "Son! Your uncle was drunk driving last night and got into a fatal crash! His wife is already here shaking us down for cash! You better come home quick!"

I rushed my farewells and sped back home.

Seeing my buzz cut, my parents' worry deepened.

"Oh, why on earth did you have to shave your head now?"

Linda emerged from the living room, her face a mess from crying, spewing venom.

"Your son killed my husband! I won't rest until I see a million dollars!"

The ink wasn't even dry on Jack's death certificate, and there she was, on our doorstep, making demands.

Something smelled fishy.

I retorted, "What, if I go get a hair transplant, will that bring Uncle Jack back? Heck no, you won't get a dime from us!"

Ignoring her, she stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a knife.

In a flash, she had it pressed against Mom's throat.

"Not paying, huh? Let's see how you like losing someone dear!"

Panic set in. Dad softly tried to reason with her.

"Okay, okay, you said a million, just give us some time. We'll get it."

Linda, half-believing, didn't remove the knife until it nicked Mom, leaving a bloody scratch.

"Make sure you keep your word, or next time, it won't be just a scratch!"

After a tense goodbye to Linda, Mom turned to me, her face lined with worry, "She's off the rails... what if she does something even crazier next time..."

"Don't worry, we'll rely on the cops. She's made her move, but we've got our bases covered."

Mom broke down, nodding through her tears.

I had a solid plan; even if Linda made more noise online or took us to court, we'd be protected by the law.

Just when things seemed to calm down—

Linda dropped another bombshell: she was pregnant.

"What? She's pregnant?"

Susan and Grandma showed up, dropping the bombshell.

Linda, smug, caressed her belly.

"That's right, the last heir to our family. If you want this baby, you know the drill."

Grandma looked pained and uncertain, her eyes darting between me and Susan.

"It's true... he was the last of our line. Jack's gone."

Her implication was clear—we should keep supporting Linda until the child was born.

We all knew that agreeing was a one-way ticket to endless financial drain.

The cost of future baby formula and Linda's retirement care... these expenses are substantial.

Desperate, Grandma turned to her daughters, "Are you heartless? This is our family's future! Agree now, or are you trying to kill me with worry?"

I thought about how Grandma had squeezed everything she could out of her daughters.

Now, with her son gone, she still expected them to prop up her daughter-in-law. Ridiculous.

Grandma's gaze then landed on me, filled with more accusation, "You and your haircut! It's your fault! Jack was too decent to just go out and drink and drive!"

Realizing this was going nowhere and bracing for more fallout, Susan and Mom shared a look and finally said, "Mom, go back home. Let us think this through."

With that, Grandma and Linda left.

Once they were gone, Susan revealed a staggering secret to my mom.

Jack had been infertile all along!