My Stepsister Demanded a Custom Cake from My Grandma – Then Tried to Return It Half-Eaten for a Refund

I slid the photo across the counter. The cake glowed in it, the gold constellation perfect, the airbrushed ombré seamless.

“This is the cake we sent out. Baked yesterday morning. Here are the oven logs, fridge temperatures, and your signed pickup slip.

5:02 p.m.”

Kayla smirked. “Congrats on being basic. It still tasted old.”

I turned the policy card around so she could see it clearly.

“Our return policy is printed and on your receipt. You didn’t call at pickup or within the hour. And you returned half a cake, which tells us it was served and eaten.

We can’t resell or test a cake that’s been sitting under DJ lights for hours.”

“You’re making things up,” she said sharply.

Without a word, I pressed play on my laptop.

Her own voice filled the bakery — tinny, high-pitched, and excited.

“LOOK HOW GORGEOUS,” she gushed on screen. The video showed her cutting the cake slowly, the frosting catching the light. Another clip played, her voice again, “Obsessed.

Salted caramel is LIFE.”

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