My mother-in-law forged a screenshot and tried to take me to VCAT

I was scrolling through the family group chat on a Tuesday afternoon when I saw it. A screenshot of a typed note, supposedly from me, agreeing to pay $2,000 toward the family holiday rental. The words were crisp and neat, but I’d never written them. My stomach turned cold.

Brenda had posted it with a caption: “Mia confirmed this amount last month, but now she’s backing out. Disappointing.”

My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. “Brenda, I never sent that. I agreed to chip in $200, not two grand.” I typed it, hit send, and watched the chat explode. Aunty Sue chimed in with “That’s not what the screenshot says.” Cousin Mark added a thumbs-up emoji. My mother-in-law stayed silent, letting the doubt fester.

Liam called me that night, his voice tight. “I checked our original chat logs. That message was never sent from your phone. The formatting’s off too—different font.” He’d confronted Brenda, who’d shrugged and said, “Your wife’s lying. Take her to small claims if you want proof.”

The next week, I got a notice from VCAT. Brenda had filed a claim for $2,000 plus costs. She’d attached her forged screenshot as evidence. My name was on the line—not just the money, but the reputation. In the family group chat, people were taking sides. I felt like I was drowning in cold rage.

I didn’t hire a lawyer. I couldn’t afford one. Instead, I filed a counter-claim for defamation and costs, attaching the original chat logs with timestamps. The hearing was in a small room in Melbourne, with a VCAT member who looked tired before we even started.

Brenda sat across from me, her face a mask of righteous indignation. She wore pearls, for God’s sake. “I have the evidence,” she said, holding up her phone.

The VCAT member examined both documents. He zoomed in on the fonts, checked the metadata. After a long silence, he said, “This document is not authentic. The original chat logs show no such message from the applicant.”

I exhaled. Finally.

But then he added, “Unfortunately, this tribunal cannot award damages for defamation. I can only issue a warning against the respondent for filing a false claim. Ms. Holloway, do not do this again. Case dismissed.”

Brenda’s face went slack. She gathered her things without a word and walked out. I was left with $3,000 in legal fees, a cleared name, and a family that would never forget the scandal.

Liam hugged me in the carpark. “I’m sorry,” he said. “She’s always been jealous of how close you are with Mum.”

I looked at him. “Next time, you handle the holidays.”

The group chat is quiet now. Brenda hasn’t posted in weeks. And I still get a little thrill every time I open the messages and see nothing from her.