Hi everyone, What happened last week made me share this, even though I didn’t expect to. Audrey, 25, took matters into her own hands when necessary. This story is worth staying for.

My mother is one of the loveliest persons you’ll encounter. Cancer treatment forced her to quit her fantastic job.

Despite being in remission, she needed to work quickly to pay the bills, so she became a café waitress. Even on bad days, she smiles and never complains.

Growing up, Mom and I fought the world. Sharing our favorite novels and late-night movie marathons has always kept us close.

I couldn’t imagine a greater role model for her bravery and positivity. Watching her struggle yet never give up has been sad and motivating.

Welcome Karen, the entitled woman. She started coming to the café daily and insulting my mom without explanation. Some examples of her nastiness:

On my lunch break, I visited Mom at the café. She served Karen, who was diva-like.

Karen shouted, “Excuse me,” waving her hand like a servant. Dropped my napkin. Be kind and buy me another.”

Mom, always patient, smiled and gracefully handed Karen a fresh napkin. Karen continued.

“Is it Marilyn?” Karen examined my mom’s uniform name badge. “Be faster next time. She scowled, “I don’t have all day.”

Mom smiled and nodded as I tightened my fists under the table. Of course, madam. Do you need anything else?

Karen waved at her phone, ignoring her.

Karen once criticized the service in every detail, and I was there. “This coffee is too hot!” she yelled. “This pastry is cold. Did you even check? Look at this table! It stinks!”

Mom said, “I’m sorry, ma’am. Get you a fresh pastry and wipe the table now.”

“And those flowers!” Karen continued. “They’re declining. You could bring some from your garden if you can’t keep fresh ones here.”

Mom frowned but responded, “I’ll see what I can do, ma’am.”

Karen’s personalization was worse. She looked Mom over and shouted to a friend, “It’s sad when people don’t take care of themselves,” one afternoon. Look at her—always fatigued. I guess some people aren’t meant to succeed.”

As an angel, Mom never complained or made a scene. Things got out of hand last week.

Mom cried and brought her coffee-stained uniform home. Karen said she threw her coffee at my mom because it was cold. Seeing her like that destroyed my heart.

What happened? Gently wiping her tears, I asked.

Audrey, it’s nothing. She attempted to dismiss it as a poor day at work, but her eyes showed her pain.

“Mom, tell me,” I demanded.

She sighed. “Karen. Lacking heat, she tossed her coffee at me. I apologized, but she screamed and left.”

“Why does she hate you? What’s her issue? I asked, angry and worried.

Audrey, this goes beyond a customer being nasty to a waitress. Karen is an old classmate,” Mom hesitated, then admitted. Her resentment against me dates back to when your father picked me over her.”

“Finished!” My voice shook with rage. “I won’t let her get away with this!”

Audrey, please. Mom: I’ll handle it. She spoke convincingly of her love and concern for me.

Shaking my head, I tried not to concern my mom. As soon as we touched, I started planning how to teach Karen a lifelong lesson.

After realizing enough was enough, I took action. Finding Karen online was simple. A little social media sleuthing showed her image obsession. She boasted about her affluent lifestyle and flawless appearance.

After researching, I made a great plan. I created a phony Instagram account as high-end beauty influencer Lila Sanders. With a few paid followers and sponsored engagement, the account looked real.

The following step followed. I complimented Karen’s posts and gradually gained her faith in the phony account.

After a week of cordial interactions, I told her I had an extra VIP ticket to an invite-only beauty event in town.

Hi Karen!

Hope you’re well. I adore your newest posts and your excellent style! 🌟

I have an additional VIP ticket to an invite-only beauty event next week. Networking and luxury pampering will be great. I thought you might be interested since you love beauty and fashion.

Let me know if you want in!

Best, Lila Sanders

Karen seized the chance. “Wow, that sounds amazing! I want to go!” Her joy jumped off the screen as she texted back.

“The Grand Hotel hosts the event,” I told her. “The dress code is strict, so look your best.”

She replied instantly. “Absolutely! Can’t wait! I appreciate the invitation!”

I laughed, knowing Karen would soon regret bothering my mom.

Karen entered the hotel foyer in her finest attire, beaming. She approached the front desk with confidence, but her confidence slowly turned to confusion.

Mr. Daniels, the hotel manager, was waiting, looking annoyed. I called ahead as Karen and canceled her spa day reservation, saying she was sick.

“My reservation is canceled?” Nearby guests noticed Karen’s voice rising. “I didn’t cancel!”

Daniels shook his head. Excuse me, ma’am, but someone claiming to be you canceled the reservation. We charged the cancelation fee and additional costs.”

Karen’s cheeks became flushed as she explained. This is absurd! I want my refund!”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Mr. Daniels repeated. “We prepared everything for your visit, and now it’s too late to rebook.”

Karen had to pay up, ashamed and flustered, receiving interested and judging eyes from the other attendees. I saw her eyes darting about to avoid looks as she searched for her credit card.

I smiled internally. I was not done. Remember the bogus beauty event? I ordered cheap, sticky, sparkly “beauty products” in high-end packaging for Karen.

I imagined Karen’s home sight as she left the hotel.

When Karen returned home, the delivery was ready. She excitedly unwrapped the presents, spilling glitter and goo on her fine clothes and clean living room.

“What the—?” she yelled, desperately brushing off the glitter that stuck to everything. The mess was practically hard to clear, and I knew it would take days.

Karen’s social media posts plummeted as she desperately tried to repair her reputation. Her once-perfect images now depicted a frantic woman trying to seem perfect. Her daily café trips had to stop, much to my mom’s relief.

But confronting Karen directly was the final blow. I casually approached her table at the café on one of her usual trips.

“Karen,” I said steadily. “You and your actions are well known to me. You believe shaming my mom makes you superior, but it shows your inadequacies and malice. My mom beat cancer and works hard every day, while you hold high school grudges. You’re embarrassing yourself by acting pathetically. Grow up and move on.”

Karen was speechless and beet scarlet. The café patrons who overheard our chat silently judged her. She hurriedly packed and went, ashamed. Not seen her in the café since.

My mom wasn’t happy with my deception when she found out. Audrey, I appreciate your support, but was it necessary? She asked with worry and humor.

“Mom, you’ve always sacrificed for my happiness. “This was nothing compared to what you’ve done for me,” I said, grasping her hand.

She grumbled but smiled. “Justice in the most glittery, sticky way, huh?”

“Exactly,” I smiled. “Karen needed her own medicine.”

Karen, if you see this, please reconsider before attacking someone who just wants to make you happy. I know no one stronger than Mom.

In my position, what would you have done differently?