You know that moment when life kicks you while you’re already down? That was me—a widowed single mom just trying to get by when my flashy neighbor Cheryl tricked me into buying her busted car. She thought she could pocket my emergency fund and walk away laughing. But the universe had other plans.

After my husband Dan died in an accident, I worked two jobs while my mom helped with the kids. Then, one Tuesday, my old van died dramatically in a parking lot—smoke, grinding, the works. That’s when Cheryl, dripping in diamonds and fake sympathy, appeared and offered to sell me her “barely-used” Toyota for $2,500. Desperate, I handed over the money.

Twenty-four hours later, the car broke down. The mechanic said the engine had been dying for months. I marched to Cheryl’s door to confront her, but she shut it in my face, smug as ever. That evening, while cleaning the car, I found a leather bag under the seat—$7,000 in cash, receipts, and a note addressed to Cheryl.The next day, Cheryl came knocking, panicked. “Did you find a bag?” she asked. I played dumb until she admitted it had “sentimental stuff.” I smiled. “Oh, the bag with seven grand? Funny, you told me ‘no returns.’” Her face went white. Later, she called begging—said the money belonged to “serious people.” I blocked her.

Weeks later, Cheryl’s house sat dark, her car gone, and a For Sale sign up. Meanwhile, I sold the Toyota for parts, bought a reliable Honda, and rebuilt my emergency fund. My daughter asked, “Why did Miss Cheryl move away?” I smiled in the mirror and said, “Sometimes people have to leave when they make bad choices.”Poetic justice, courtesy of karma.