Category: Uncategorized

Miriam stepped out of the airport shuttle, inhaling deeply. The salty air of The Bahamas filled her lungs, which was a welcome change from the stuffy plane cabin.

At sixty-five, this vacation was long overdue. Five years of grief had taken their toll on Miriam, etching lines around her eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there before.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The Ocean Club Resort rose before her. Its gleaming structure promised nothing but relaxation and escape, so Miriam allowed herself a small smile as she followed a bellhop into the lobby.

The marble floors echoed with the chatter of excited tourists and the clinking of luggage carts, and Miriam stared at all their happy faces, hoping she would end up feeling just like them.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Welcome to The Ocean Club, ma’am. May I have your name for check-in?” The receptionist’s cheerful voice snapped Miriam out of her thoughts.

“Leary. Miriam,” she replied, fishing for her ID from her purse.

As the receptionist tapped away at the computer, Miriam’s gaze wandered. That’s when she saw them.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Time seemed to stop.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Standing by the gift shop, examining a display of colorful seashells, were two people who couldn’t possibly be there. Her daughter, Pamela, and son-in-law, Frank.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But they were dead. Killed in a car crash five years ago… Or so she thought.

“Ma’am? Your room key,” the receptionist’s voice sounded distant.

Miriam’s hand shot out, grabbing the key without looking, while her eyes never left the couple as they turned away from the gift shop and headed for the exit.

“Hold my bags,” Miriam barked, already moving. “I’ll be right back.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

She hustled across the lobby, struggling with her breath. She was really out of shape, and the couple was almost at the door.

“Pamela!” Miriam called out. Even her own ears heard the desperation.

The woman turned, and her eyes widened in shock. It was unmistakably Pamela!

Suddenly, she grabbed her husband’s arm and whispered something urgently. Frank looked back, and Miriam saw his face transform into a mask of panic.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Without any more warning, they bolted.

Miriam’s heart raced as she followed them out into the bright sunlight.

“Stop right there!” she yelled, her voice carrying across the palm-lined driveway. “Or I’ll call the police!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The threat worked.

The couple froze, and their shoulders slumped in defeat. Slowly, they turned to face her.

Pamela’s eyes brimmed with tears, but Miriam had no idea why. Was Pamela crying because of guilt, because of the lie, or because of something else?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Mom,” her daughter whispered. “We can explain.”

***

Pamela and Frank’s hotel room door clicked shut behind them, sealing off the cheerful vacation atmosphere outside. Inside, the air felt heavy, charged with the past five years of Miriam’s mourning and her current anger.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

She stood rigid with her arms crossed. “Start talking,” she demanded firmly.

Frank cleared his throat. “Mrs. Leary, we never meant to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” Miriam’s laugh was harsh. “I buried you. Both of you. I grieved for five years. And now you’re standing here, telling me you never meant to hurt me?”

Pamela stepped forward, trying to reach out. “Mom, please. We had our reasons.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Miriam recoiled from her daughter, although she also had the same urge. “What reason could possibly justify this?”

Frank and Pamela exchanged troubled glances, and it took a second before Frank spoke. “We won the lottery.”

Silence fell, broken only by the distant sound of waves crashing on the beach outside.

“The lottery,” Miriam repeated flatly. “So you faked your own deaths… because you won money?”

Pamela nodded and began to elaborate, although her voice could barely be heard.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“It was a lot of money, Mom. We knew if people found out, they’d all want a piece. We just wanted to start fresh, without any obligations.”

“Obligations?” Miriam’s own voice rose. “Like paying back the money you borrowed from Frank’s family for that failed business? Like being there for your cousin’s kids after their parents died? Those kinds of obligations?”

Frank’s face hardened. “We didn’t owe anyone anything. This was our chance to live the life we always wanted, and we don’t plan on letting anyone get in our way.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“At the expense of everyone who loved you, and I bet you’re also avoiding taxes,” Miriam shot back. She turned to her daughter. “Pamela, how could you do this? To me?”

Pamela looked down and sniffled. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t want to, but Frank said…”

“Don’t blame this on me,” Frank interjected. “You agreed to the plan.”

Miriam watched as her daughter wilted under her husband’s glare. At that moment, she clearly saw the dynamic between them, and her heart broke anew.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Pamela,” she said softly. “Come home with me. We can fix this. Make it right.”

For a moment, hope flared in Pamela’s eyes. Then Frank’s hand clamped down on her shoulder.

“We’re not going anywhere,” he said, resolute. “Our life is here now. We have everything we need.”

Pamela’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

Miriam stood there, staring at the strangers her daughter and son-in-law had become. Without another word, she turned and walked out of the room.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

She couldn’t enjoy her vacation after that and changed her plans immediately. But the trip home was a blur.

Miriam moved on autopilot as her mind replayed the confrontation over and over. What should she do? Was faking your death illegal? Was Frank hiding something else?

However, by the time she reached her empty house, she had made a decision. She wouldn’t report them. Not yet.

She’d leave that door open, hoping against hope that Pamela would walk through it one day.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Three years passed.

Miriam tried to move on, but the weight of this secret and the pain of betrayal never truly left her. Then, one rainy afternoon, there was a knock at her door.

Miriam opened it to find Pamela standing on her porch, soaked from the rain, with her arms wrapped around her body and looking utterly lost.

“Mom,” Pamela’s voice cracked. “Can I come in?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Miriam hesitated, then stepped aside.

Pamela shuffled in, leaving a trail of water on the hardwood floor. In the harsh light of the entryway, Miriam could see how much her daughter had changed.

The designer clothes and perfectly styled hair were gone, replaced by worn jeans and messy hair. Dark circles shadowed her eyes.

“What happened?” Miriam asked, her tone carefully neutral.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Pamela sank onto the couch, her shoulders hunched. “It’s all gone,” she whispered. “The money, the house, everything. Frank… he got into some bad investments. Started gambling. I tried to stop him, but…”

She looked up, meeting Miriam’s eyes for the first time. “He left. Took what was left and disappeared. I don’t know where he is.”

Miriam sat down across from her daughter, processing the information.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Part of her wanted to comfort Pamela, to wrap her in a hug and tell her everything would be okay. But the wounds were still too fresh, the betrayal too deep.

“Why are you here, Pamela?” she asked quietly.

Pamela’s lips trembled. “I didn’t know where else to go. I know I don’t deserve your help, after everything we did. How selfish I was. But I… I miss you, Mom. I’m so sorry. For all of it.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Silence stretched between them because Miriam had no idea what to do. This was what she wanted ever since that day in The Bahamas.

So, she studied her daughter’s face, searching for signs of the girl she used to know. After a few moments, Miriam sighed.

“I can’t just forgive and forget, Pamela. What you and Frank did… it was more than just lying. I think you broke the law. Faking your death may not be exactly illegal, but I bet you didn’t pay any taxes on that money. But also, you hurt a lot of people, not just me.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Pamela nodded as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I know,” she whispered. “And you’re right. Part of the reason Frank wanted to leave was to avoid paying taxes. Everything else… what he didn’t want to pay back to his family… well, that was just icing.”

“If you want to make this right with me and with everyone else,” Miriam continued, her voice firm, “you need to face the consequences. That means going to the police. Telling them everything. About the faked deaths and everything else you two did with that money. All of it.”

Pamela’s eyes widened in fear. “But… I could go to jail.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Yes,” Miriam agreed. “You could. I don’t want you to, but it’s the only way forward. The only way to truly make amends.”

For a long moment, Pamela sat frozen, sniffling slightly. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.”

Miriam felt a glimmer of pride break through her anger and hurt. Maybe her daughter wasn’t completely lost after all. Being far away from Frank was definitely a good thing for her.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Alright then,” she said, standing up. “Let’s get you into some dry clothes. Then we’ll head down to the station.”

As they walked out to the car a short while later, Pamela hesitated. “Mom?” she asked. “Will you… will you stay with me? While I talk to them?”

Miriam paused, then reached out and squeezed her daughter’s hand, allowing herself to again feel and show all the love she had for her. “Yes,” she said warmly and desperately. “I’ll be there, for sure.”

“Thank you,” Pamela nodding and taking a deep breath. Suddenly, her expression shifted. Her mouth set in a firm line, and determination filled her eyes. “Let’s go.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

There’s my girl!

Click here to read another story: For nearly a month, Julia struggled to accept her son’s passing, until one day, she received a message from his phone: “Help! I’m sending a geolocation!” A spark of hope ignited in her, especially because…she never saw his body.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Advertisement
Related posts
Stories
My Son Came Home with ‘Grandma’s Naughty List’ — It Was a List of Family Members She Excluded from Christmas Dinner

December 19, 2024

Stories
5 Epic Stories Exposing Neighbors’ Secrets

December 13, 2024

Stories
High School Sweethearts Planned to Meet in Times Square 10 Years Later — Instead, a 10-Year-Old Girl Approached Him There

December 11, 2024

My Husband Gifted Me a Christmas Present That Outraged Me – Next Year, I Plotted a Revenge

December 19, 2024

My Daughter Insisted Her Late Mother Visited Her at School – I Was Shocked to the Core When I Learned the Truth

November 29, 2024

Granddad Forbids Anyone from Touching His Old Mattress, Girl Finds Stash There after His Death – Story of the Day

March 14, 2025

Stories
3 Wild Stories About Brides’ Real Life Drama

December 19, 2024

I Was Looking At a Photo of My Late Wife and Me When Something Fell Out of the Frame and Made Me Go Pale

December 03, 2024

I’m Raising My Twin Grandsons Alone After Their Mom Passed — One Day, a Woman Knocked on My Door with a Terrible Secret

December 05, 2024

Stories
I Invited a Fortune Teller to My Bridal Party to Prank My MIL, but I Didn’t Expect Her to Reveal a Secret Hidden in a Bag

December 17, 2024

Stories
I Was Sure My Partner Was a Widower – Until His Daughter Confessed She’s Been Seeing Her Mom on Saturdays

December 16, 2024

Stories
My DIL Threw Away My Thanksgiving Dishes and Replaced Them with Her Own — My Granddaughter Got Revenge for Me

December 18, 2024

I Returned Home after Giving Birth to Find My Baby’s Room Destroyed and Repainted Black

December 19, 2024

My 18th Birthday Surprise for My Stepmom Turned Her World Upside Down

December 19, 2024

Top news
Stories
My Cheating Husband Made Me Sign over My Business to Him – He Had No Idea It Was Part of My Revenge Plan
April 11, 2025

Stories
3 Real-Life Stories of People Who Faced Heartbreak, but Uncovered the Truth Years Later
April 11, 2025

Stories
My Son’s New Classmates Turned Him from a Straight-A Student into a Troublemaker — But I Didn’t Give Up on Him
April 10, 2025

Read also
Lady Spots Daughter and Son-in-Law Who ‘Tragically Died’ 5 Years Ago and Follows Them – Story of the Day
December 17, 2024

Stories
My MIL Told My Daughter Santa Only Brings Gifts to Good Kids, So She Wouldn’t Get Any – She Didn’t Expect a Heartbreaking Reply
December 19, 2024

5 Epic Stories of Entitled In-Laws Getting What They Deserved

An ear-splitting wail echoed through the house as Walter entered from the garage. His wife, Abby, sat in the kitchen, and by the distressed look on her face, he knew Logan’s cries were bothering her again.

“Oh, honey,” he says and hugs her from behind. “How long has he been crying like that?”

“I’ve tried everything, Walter!” Abby broke down into sobs. “He’s been fed, changed, bathed, and burped! I even took his temperature! I don’t know what to do now. He keeps crying!”

After becoming parents a month ago, everything in the couple’s lives changed. And if there was something that really distressed Walter, it was Logan’s cries.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Come, we’ll figure this out together,” Walter said and took Abby to Logan’s room.

He cheerfully approached Logan’s crib. But all he saw in the crib was a dictaphone and a note. Walter pressed the stop button on the dictaphone, and Logan’s cries stopped.

“What did you do?” Abby called from behind. Walter wasn’t listening. He held the note and zoned out. It wasn’t until Abby snatched the note from his hand and opened it that he realized what had occurred.

“I warned you that you’d regret being rude to me.

If you want to see your baby again, leave $200,000 in the luggage storage lockers near the pier.

If you go to the police, you’ll never see him again.”

“Oh my God!” Abby gasped. “What does it mean? Was I rude to someone? Were you? Who would kidnap Logan?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Walter recalled the janitor he’d mistreated at the maternity hospital. He was bringing a cute bear-shaped pot for Abby while she was admitted to the hospital, but the pot broke when he tripped over the janitor’s broom.

Furious, Walter called the man awful names, and the janitor said, “You’ll regret it!”

“We’ll have to go to the police, honey,” Walter said, snapping out of his thoughts. “It must be him!”

“What? The note says we’ll never see Logan again if we go to the police, Walter. We should just pay the ransom!”

“We don’t know if he’ll return Logan if we do that. Think about it, honey. This guy is a janitor… there’s no way he’d know if we went to the police, and since we know where he works, they might be able to go straight to the maternity hospital, arrest him, and bring Logan home to us.”

Abby agreed.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Walter parked their car outside the station. He and Abby were about to exit the vehicle when Walter’s phone buzzed with a message.

“This is your first and last warning. If you enter that police station, your kid’s going into the bay. Get the money to the location mentioned below.”

Abby gasped as she read the message, and Walter looked around, trying to spot the kidnapper. But there were too many people. The only way to rescue Logan now was to pay the ransom.

Walter decided to drive to the bank right away, but Abby’s condition deteriorated. She threw up once and was about to throw up for a second time. It was better to drive her home, Walter decided.

“Don’t hate me for it, honey, but that’s the best for you,” he said. And Abby didn’t protest.

“Fine…But Walter…does that kidnapper even know about caring for a newborn?” she asked and broke down into tears.

Walter said nothing and drove her home. But his imagination wasn’t immune to dark thoughts. He kept imagining Logan in a dark room, crying for help that never came.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Somehow pulling himself together, Walter drove to the bank. Then he visited the storage locker mentioned by the kidnapper and placed the money inside it.

There were too many people around for him to spot the janitor, but Walter knew he would be somewhere nearby, watching him. So Walter returned to his car, drove a short distance, and parked around the lockers again. It wasn’t long before he spotted the janitor from the maternity hospital.

The janitor opened the locker. Walter sat up straighter, but then a tourist group walked past, hiding the janitor from view.

“Move it!” Walter snapped.

Painful minutes stretched out as the tourists headed toward one of the statues. After the last few people in the group eventually passed the lockers, Walter swore. The janitor had disappeared.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Walter barely dared to breathe as he scanned the crowd. The man had been wearing the sort of flashy shirt sold in the more eclectic, hippie-themed stores, so he shouldn’t have been hard to spot.

There! A wave of relief washed over him as Walter spotted the janitor crossing the road. He was carrying the bag of money Walter had placed in the locker. Walter leaped from his car and followed him.

The man led him around a parking lot, past a variety of restaurants and several museums before he turned into a bus station. They were heading toward another row of lockers.

The janitor placed the bag inside a locker. When he turned around, Walter was ready. He shoved the janitor up against the lockers and held him there with his forearm.

“Where is my son?” Walter demanded. “I’ve done everything you asked, you jerk; now return Logan to me!”

“Look, I was offered $100 to collect the package and then drop it off here,” the man said. “I don’t know about your son!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Don’t you dare lie!”

“I’m not! Some guy paid me to deliver the package! I ran into him in the parking lot after work one day, but he was standing with the light behind him, so I didn’t see his face. I have two kids of my own. I’d never hurt someone else’s child.”

Something about the janitor’s eyes told Walter the older man wasn’t lying. He let the man go, then opened the locker. But it was empty. Somebody had cut a hole in the back.

Walter jogged around to the back of the lockers. The hole was covered from the back with a thin steel plate, loosely secured by two screws. Nobody around was carrying a bag like the one he’d placed the money into.

Walter didn’t know how to break the news to Abby. Logan was their miracle baby. They’d been struggling for years before they conceived him. And now, he had lost his only chance to get Logan back.

Walter entered his home. He checked all the rooms downstairs but didn’t find Abby anywhere. He went upstairs to check their bedroom and noticed Abby’s things were gone.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

At first, Walter suspected she was kidnapped. He called her. Countless times. But she never answered. Then it dawned on him that the kidnapper wouldn’t have taken all of Abby’s things. Even her hand lotion was missing.

Walter was crushed, to say the least. How could Abby do this to them? No wonder she’d been so eager to return home after feeling sick. She had also insisted they pay the ransom. Abby was Logan’s kidnapper. Did she have an accomplice?

The only thing that consoled Walter’s heart was that the ransom money was fake. He would find a way to get his son back.

Walter drove to the maternity hospital where Logan was born, and near the vending machine, he found the man he was looking for—a doctor.

“Hi,” Walter approached him. “I hope you can help me. I need someone to call my wife—”

“I’m not a phone service,” the doctor replied sharply.

“You don’t understand. I’m willing to pay you handsomely for your assistance, doctor, and your silence.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The doctor studied Walter through narrowed eyes. He slowly smiled as Walter explained his situation and told him what he wanted the doctor to tell Abby.

Walter then retrieved his wallet and furtively showed the doctor the dollar bills inside it. The man nodded. “Okay, we have a deal. Come with me!”

Walter followed the doctor to a nurse’s station on the second floor. All the nurses were checking on their patients, judging by the activity in the hallways. Nobody took much notice as the doctor lifted the phone and dialed Abby’s number.

“Good morning, Mrs. Taylor; this is Dr. Jones from the maternity hospital. I’m calling to inform you that we just discovered something very serious in one of the routine tests we performed on your son after he was born. He needs to come in for treatment immediately.”

Walter heard Abby’s emotional outcry from the other side of the nurse’s station but couldn’t make out her exact words.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss the details over the phone. All I can say for now is that he has a rare genetic condition. I’m sure he does seem fine now, but that could change at any moment. He’s at a higher risk for SIDS and several other life-threatening conditions. You really need to bring him in today, Mrs. Taylor.”

Dr. Jones ended the call a few minutes later and showed Walter a thumbs-up.

“She’s going to bring the baby in ASAP.” Dr. Jones held out his hand and wriggled his fingers. “I did my bit. Now it’s time for you to pay up.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Walter paid the doctor and went back downstairs. He wandered around for a few minutes before his phone started ringing. His lip curled in disgust when he checked the caller ID.

“You have some nerve to phone me after what you did, Abby,” Walter said. “Where’s Logan? I demand you bring him back.”

“Says the man who doesn’t even care enough about him to pay the ransom!” Abby shrieked. “That money was all fake, you tight-fisted jerk. Logan needs to see a doctor urgently, and I can’t take him because of you. Where’s the real money, Walter?”

“In my account, where it’s been all along. What’s wrong with Logan, or is this just another scheme to get my money?”

Abby swore at him and began to cry. “I told you; he’s sick! You’ve got to send me the money so he can receive treatment. He’ll die without it.”

“I won’t let my son die! I’ll pay,” Walter replied and hung up.

Have you ever felt like your life was perfect, only to have one moment rip it all apart? That’s how it started for me.

A single change in my daughter’s behavior pulled at a thread that revealed a life-changing secret.

A girl standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
A girl standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

My life was great before this happened.

I had a stable job as a software developer, a wife I adored, and a bright, lively 13-year-old daughter named Demi who filled our home with laughter.

Sure, life had its challenges, but overall, I thought I was living the kind of life most people dreamed of.

That belief lasted until the day Demi walked through the door with red, swollen eyes.

“Demi,” I called out as I stepped toward her. “What happened? Are you okay?”

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

She shrugged, dropping her backpack by the door.

“It’s just school stuff, Dad. Nothing serious,” she said, avoiding eye contact.

I wanted to press her but also didn’t want to invade her privacy. You know, dealing with teenagers is super tricky. One wrong move and you become the parent they dislike.

A man talking to his daughter | Source: Midjourney
A man talking to his daughter | Source: Midjourney

But something about the way she looked made me uneasy. My wife, Nora, was at work, so I couldn’t share my concerns with her.

“Are you sure?” I asked gently.

“Yeah, Dad. I’m fine,” she said before brushing past me and heading to her room.

I sighed and let it go, telling myself it was probably just a rough day. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

The next day, Demi came home looking the same.

A girl standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
A girl standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks flushed like she’d been crying the whole way home. This time, her posture was different. It looked like she was bracing herself for something.

I couldn’t help but ask again.

“Demi, what’s going on? You’ve been coming home upset two days in a row. Did something happen at school?”

“Dad, can you just… not?” she snapped.” Please? Stop asking me. It’s nothing.”

I was surprised. She’d never spoken to me like that before.

A man looking at his daughter | Source: Midjourney
A man looking at his daughter | Source: Midjourney

“Okay, okay,” I said, raising my hands in surrender. “I won’t bother you about it.”

She gave me a quick, almost guilty glance before heading to her room again. I’d never seen her so upset, and her shutting me out only made it worse.

I couldn’t just let this go.

Later that evening, after dinner, I brought it up with Nora in our bedroom.

“Nora, I’m worried about Demi,” I began.

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

“Why?” she asked. “What happened?”

“She’s been coming home upset, her eyes red like she’s been crying, and she won’t tell me what’s wrong. When I ask her, she just brushes me off.”

Nora’s brow furrowed.

“I’ve been so busy with work lately, I haven’t noticed,” she admitted, guilt flashing across her face. “She’s always been closer to me. Maybe I can get her to open up.”

“Do you think something’s happening at school?” I asked. “Or do you think we’ve done something to upset her?”

A worried man | Source: Midjourney
A worried man | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know,” she shook her head. “But I’ll talk to her tomorrow. We’ll figure it out, Billy. Don’t worry.”

The next evening, I was in the living room when I heard Demi’s voice rise from the kitchen. Nora had just come home from work and, as promised, was trying to talk to her.

At first, the words were muffled, but it wasn’t long before I realized something was not right.

“Don’t touch me, don’t talk to me, just leave me alone!” Demi’s voice was trembling with anger and hurt.

An angry girl | Source: Midjourney
An angry girl | Source: Midjourney

I got up and walked toward the kitchen.

Nora stood frozen, while Demi stormed past me, heading straight to her room.

“What on earth just happened?” I asked Nora as we heard Demi slam the door behind her.

Nora shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I just asked her if everything was okay. She wouldn’t even look at me. Billy, I’m really worried.”

I leaned against the counter, trying to process Demi’s reaction. She’d always been close to her mother, and I’d never seen her lash out like that.

A girl talking to her mother in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
A girl talking to her mother in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“She told me not to bother her yesterday,” I said. “Now she’s shutting you out too. This isn’t just a phase, Nora. Something’s going on.”

“Maybe I should’ve been around more,” she said. “I’ve been so caught up with work, I didn’t notice anything was wrong.”

“This isn’t your fault,” I replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. “But we can’t keep letting this go. If she won’t talk to us, I’m going to her school tomorrow. Maybe her teachers or someone else knows what’s going on.”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

“Maybe that’s the best thing to do,” Nora said. “She’s shutting us out here. Someone at school might have answers.”

The next day, I planned to be at Demi’s school on time, but the traffic slowed me down.

By the time I reached the school, the bell was ringing, and students were streaming out in clusters, chatting and laughing as they made their way home.

I scanned the crowd, searching for Demi. But I couldn’t believe my eyes when I spotted her.

You know how people say time flies when you’re not paying attention? That’s exactly how the last five years of my life have felt since I moved into this quiet neighborhood. After my messy divorce, I needed a place where I could just be, somewhere I could settle into my own company.

A woman standing on the front porch of her house | Source: Midjourney
A woman standing on the front porch of her house | Source: Midjourney

I wasn’t expecting to make close friends, but then Hazel moved in next door with her husband, Sebastian, and things changed. We hit it off almost instantly. She was one of those rare people who made you feel seen and understood — like you could tell her anything.

Our friendship grew quickly, from casual chats over the fence to morning coffee sessions in our kitchens. Sebastian was always there in the background, the kind of guy who never caused any drama. Their marriage seemed perfect, at least on the surface.

A loving couple | Source: Unsplash
A loving couple | Source: Unsplash

But lately, Hazel wasn’t herself. She’d been more on edge, throwing out cryptic comments about how things were “getting weird” at home, especially with her mother-in-law, Donna.

Hazel said Donna was stirring up drama behind the scenes, spreading lies about her, and making life unnecessarily hard. At first, I thought she was exaggerating. I mean, how bad could it really be, right? I’d met Donna a few times; she seemed like your typical overbearing MIL, but nothing out of the ordinary.

A smiling middle-aged woman | Source: Midjourney
A smiling middle-aged woman | Source: Midjourney

Then, yesterday, Hazel called me with this strange request. She asked me, out of the blue, to interrupt their family dinner.

“Seven sharp,” she said. No other details, just this urgency in her voice that made me agree without pushing her for more.

I figured maybe she was just trying to escape another awkward family moment. But what happened next… well, let’s just say I wasn’t ready for it.

So, there I was, at 7 p.m., standing at Hazel’s door. I knocked twice before Sebastian answered with his usual warm smile.

A man smiles warmly while standing at the door | Source: Midjourney
A man smiles warmly while standing at the door | Source: Midjourney

“Addison! What a surprise. Come in,” he said, stepping aside to let me in. But before I could even respond, Hazel came rushing into the hallway, practically shoving past him. Her hand grabbed mine in a tight grip, and I barely had time to process it before she dragged me outside again.

“Hazel,” I whispered urgently, “forget about Donna for a second. Look over there…”
“Hazel, what’s going on?” I asked, my heart racing as she led me across the yard and into my own house. “Why did you just pull me out of there? You need to explain what’s happening.”

A surprised woman standing outside a house | Source: Midjourney
A surprised woman standing outside a house | Source: Midjourney

“Just… come with me,” Hazel said, her voice low and trembling. “You’ll see in a second, I promise. We’ve got the perfect view from your upstairs window.”

I followed her, still confused but too curious to refuse. She led me up the stairs and into the guest room, pushing open the door.

We both crouched by the window that overlooked her dining room. The view was perfect, just like she said. I could see straight into her kitchen where Sebastian and Donna were finishing up dinner preparations.

A person in a white dress shirt holding a white ceramic plate with food | Source: Pexels
A person in a white dress shirt holding a white ceramic plate with food | Source: Pexels

“What are we doing here, Hazel?” I whispered, my breath shallow. I was nervous, and I didn’t even know why yet.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pointed toward her MIL. That’s when I saw Donna hovering over the food, glancing around as if she were trying to make sure no one was watching. I leaned closer, my eyes narrowing. Was she sprinkling something into the food?

I turned to Hazel, my mind spinning. “Is she… Is she poisoning the food?” My voice came out in a horrified whisper.

A woman is horrified while looking out the window of her room | Source: Midjourney
A woman is horrified while looking out the window of her room | Source: Midjourney

Hazel shook her head. “Not poison, but close enough. She’s been sabotaging me for months, Addison. She adds too much salt, burns things on purpose, then sits back and watches as everyone complains about how terrible my cooking is.”

My jaw dropped. “She’s been doing that on purpose? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Hazel admitted, her voice thick with frustration. “She wants to make me look incompetent in front of Sebastian. Every time something goes wrong, it’s like she gets this twisted satisfaction out of it.”

A woman looks frustrated and worried | Source: Midjourney
A woman looks frustrated and worried | Source: Midjourney

I was about to say something when a movement from the corner of my eye made my stomach flip. I froze, my eyes widening.

“Hazel,” I whispered urgently, “forget about Donna for a second. Look over there…”

My heart sank as I stared down from the window, barely able to believe what I was seeing. There, just inches apart, were Sebastian and Hazel’s sister, Zoey. His hand brushed against her arm, lingering for far too long. Then, it happened. They kissed. And it wasn’t some accidental, fleeting peck either; it was long, slow, and intentional.

A couple kissing | Source: Midjourney
A couple kissing | Source: Midjourney

My stomach twisted. This wasn’t just some misunderstanding. It was betrayal — raw and real. Hazel had been worried about her mother-in-law, Donna, but this? This was something else entirely.

Beside me, Hazel froze, her face draining of color as she processed what was unfolding right in front of her. Her body trembled as if she could barely keep herself together.

“No… no way,” she whispered, her voice shaking, barely above a breath. “Not my sister.”

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney
An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

I reached for her hand, but she pulled away, her eyes fixed on the scene below. The fury bubbling inside her was almost tangible. I didn’t dare speak.

“This,” she said, her voice barely controlled, “this ends tonight.” Her eyes snapped to me, a fierce determination replacing the initial shock. “I’m not letting this slide. Not any of it.”

She yanked her phone out of her pocket, her fingers trembling as she began to snap photos of the scene: her mother-in-law sneaking around the kitchen and her husband cozying up to Zoey.

“Emily, are you ready? My mom will watch Sophia, so we have the whole day.” I tied my shoes as my wife came down the stairs. She looked nervous, brushing invisible wrinkles off her blouse.

A woman fastening her zipper | Source: Pexels
A woman fastening her zipper | Source: Pexels

“I think so, David,” she said softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “I just… I hope we’re doing the right thing. What if the child doesn’t connect with us?”

I walked over and held her hands. “We’ve talked about this for months. You’ve read every book. We’re as ready as we’ll ever be. Besides, no child could resist your pancakes.”

Emily chuckled, her cheeks flushing pink. “Thanks for that vote of confidence.”

A smiling man talking to his wife | Source: Pexels
A smiling man talking to his wife | Source: Pexels

Sophia, my five-year-old daughter from my first marriage, poked her head out of the living room. “Can I have pancakes tomorrow, Mommy?”

Emily’s face softened. “Of course, sweetheart.” She smiled, but there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes. I knew she loved Sophia like her own, but I also knew she wanted another child who would call her “Mommy” from the start.

A smiling woman in a dress | Source: Midjourney
A smiling woman in a dress | Source: Midjourney

As we drove to the shelter, the air in the car was thick with anticipation. Emily stared out the window, twisting her wedding ring.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I’m just scared,” she admitted. “What if we can’t find a child who feels like… ours?”

I reached over and squeezed her hand. “We will. It’s like you always say—love finds a way.”

A nervous woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
A nervous woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

When we arrived, the shelter director greeted us warmly. Mrs. Graham was an older woman with silver hair and kind eyes. “Welcome. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Emily nodded, a small, polite smile on her face. “Thank you, Mrs. Graham. We’re excited and… a little nervous.”

“That’s natural,” Mrs. Graham said reassuringly. “Why don’t we start with a quick chat in my office?”

A smiling woman in her office | Source: Pexels
A smiling woman in her office | Source: Pexels

In her cozy office, surrounded by photos of happy families, we explained what we were looking for in a child. “We’re open to any background,” I said. “We just want to feel a connection.”

Mrs. Graham nodded. “I understand. Let me show you the playroom. The kids are all unique, and I think you’ll feel that connection when it’s right.”

A smiling woman wearing a black sweater | Source: Pexels
A smiling woman wearing a black sweater | Source: Pexels

The playroom was alive with laughter. Children were running, drawing, and playing games. Emily’s face lit up as she saw a little boy building a tower of blocks.

“Hi there!” she said, crouching beside him. “That’s a tall tower. What’s your name?”

The boy grinned. “Eli. Don’t knock it over!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Emily said with a laugh.

A woman playing with a boy | Source: Midjourney
A woman playing with a boy | Source: Midjourney

I found myself chatting with a girl drawing on a chalkboard. “What are you making?”

“A unicorn,” she said confidently. “You’re big. Are you a dad?”

“I am,” I said. “Do you like dads?”

“They’re okay,” she said with a shrug.

Emily caught my eye across the room, her expression a mix of joy and confusion. I knew she was feeling the same thing I was. How could we possibly choose anyone?

A puzzled man | Source: Freepik
A puzzled man | Source: Freepik

I felt a tiny tap on my shoulder and turned around. Standing there was a little girl, maybe five years old, with big, curious eyes.

“Are you my new dad?” she asked, her voice soft but confident.

My heart stopped. She looked just like Sophia—same honey-brown hair, same round cheeks, same deep dimples when she smiled.

“Uh, I…” My voice caught in my throat.

A shocked man | Source: Pexels
A shocked man | Source: Pexels

The girl tilted her head, studying me with an expression of innocent expectation, like she already knew the answer. Then, as if to confirm something in her mind, she reached out her hand.

That’s when I saw it—a small, crescent-shaped birthmark on her wrist. My heart raced. Sophia had that exact same birthmark in the same spot.

Bob Hollis was running late. The 40-year-old had just received a call from a Florida hospital telling him a girl had just been born and he was listed as the father.

He would have discounted it as a prank, but he knew his wife was in Florida for a short holiday he organized for her while he renovated their home — it was a surprise.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

The two had no kids of their own and had adopted three because adoption was something they both wanted to be involved in, so they needed to add more rooms to their house, which was why he was renovating.

Among the two, Bob was more particular about getting a foster child because he was one himself, and he had grown up promising himself to take in as many kids as he could.

“If I can help those kids grow up to be the best of themselves then I feel like I’ve made a huge difference,” he told his wife while they were discussing it.

Bob was also father to two grown kids whom he conceived while he was with his former wife, Ellen. The two went their separate ways after the woman decided to cheat with their pool boy, and she was caught.

He met his second wife, Mary, two years later, and after dating for several months, they got married. They tried to have kids but were unsuccessful, and this motivated them to look into adoption, but they never stopped trying to make babies.

One day, their persistence paid off, and Mary conceived a child. It was in preparation of the baby’s arrival that Bob decided to expand the house to include a nursery and an extra room.

After making the decision, he got Mary, who was due in two months, on a plane to Florida — a place she had always wanted to visit. But when she arrived in Florida, the woman immediately went into labor and was subsequently rushed to the hospital.

Unfortunately, she died during childbirth, so Bob was told that because the child was a newborn, it was necessary to fly out immediately. He packed his suitcases and flew to Florida to pick up her daughter.

When his plane landed, he rented a car and made his way to the hospital, where his wife had allegedly passed away.

The news of her death still ate at him, but he knew there would be time to grieve later, so he focused on bringing home their only child together.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

When he arrived at the hospital, he met with the volunteer at the intensive care unit, a woman who was 82 years old and recently widowed.

Her name was Mrs. Sticks, and she had things to tell Bob. “What happened?” he asked her as soon as he entered her office.

“Have a seat Mr. Hollis,” she said calmly.

“I’m better off standing, he replied.

“I’m sorry for your loss Mr. Hollis, but your wife suffered some complications giving birth to your child.”

At that, Bob cried bitterly, and Mrs. Sticks quietly watched him, choosing to let him grieve. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat and spoke.

“As I understand you have come for the child, but I have to make sure that you have what it takes to care for one,” Mrs. Sticks said.

Bob let her know that he was already a father and Mrs. Meredith Sticks nodded appreciatively as if to say, “You’ll do,” but she still gave him her phone number.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said. The kind woman also offered her new acquaintance a ride to the airport on the day of departure.

Things went on smoothly for Bob until it was time to board the plane. When he got to the boarding gate, the woman at the counter refused to let him through.

“Is this your child sir?” she asked.

“Of course she is,” he said.

“I’m sorry but she seems too young to be on an airplane. How old is she?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“She’s four days old. Now can I get through?” Bob said.

“I’m sorry sir, but you’ll have to present her birth certificate and wait till she is at least seven days old before traveling with her,” the woman said sternly.

“What’s this?” Bob asked angrily. “Are you saying I have to remain here for the next couple of days? I have no family here to stay with which is why I must get home today.”

“I’m sorry, it’s the policy,” the woman said and turned her attention to the next person in line.

Bob knew that it would take him quite some time to obtain the document but he also had nowhere to go in Florida and no one to ask for help.

He was preparing to spend the night at the airport when he remembered Mrs. Sticks, the kind woman from the medical center. He would rather not have bothered her, but he had no choice, and the night was quickly approaching.

“Hello Meredith,” he said. “I need your help.”

When Mrs. Sticks found out about Bob’s problem, she immediately promised to return to the airport and bring them to her home — it was an offer that astounded Bob, who knew he would most likely have refused to help if he was in her place.

“Compassion still thrives in this world,” he thought to himself.

Bob stayed at Mrs. Sticks’ house for more than a week before he returned to Texas. The woman didn’t just welcome Bob and his daughter into her home. She helped him cope with the newborn baby as well as the death of his wife by talking to him and comforting him. She even helped him arrange for the proper transportation of his wife’s body, making things easier for him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

The man could not believe how generous she was and would always call her a real angel — even his daughter seemed to love the woman because the girl would start to glow and giggle just from hearing the woman’s voice.

During his stay, Bob learned that the woman had four grown children, seven grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren.

Together they looked after the baby, took relieving walks, and even went to honor the memory of Mrs. Sticks’ departed husband — activities that brought the two even closer.

The man saw in Mrs. Sticks his mother who had passed away a long time ago, and he knew he would miss her a lot when he flew home.

After receiving his daughter’s birth certificate, he was permitted to return home, but Bob continued to keep in touch with the old lady who had helped him.

He had no idea how things would have worked out without her, and he never forgot her kindness, so he visited her every year with his little daughter until she passed away a few years later.

A lawyer reached out to him at her funeral and told him that Mrs. Sticks had left him part of her inheritance, just like she did for her kids.

In honor of her kindness, Bob donated the money to a charity he founded together with her four kids, including her oldest daughter Shirley, whom he fell in love with due to constant exposure to her charms. Later, the two got married, and she became a mother to his six kids.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

What did we gain from this story?

Kindness leaves a lasting impression. Bob could never forget Mrs. Sticks, who was there for him in his difficult times. Her heart inspired him to found the charity organization, which was a way to share more kindness around.
Imbibe the culture of giving back. Bob adopted three kids with his late wife because he was from a foster home himself and wanted to find a way to make the lives of kids in orphanages better. It is an act worthy of emulation.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

The morning of my wedding, I woke up with butterflies in my stomach and a full heart.

Leo and I had spent years saving for this day. Extra shifts, late nights, cutting corners wherever we could. Every dollar went toward making it perfect.

A smiling woman laying in her bed | Source: Midjourney
A smiling woman laying in her bed | Source: Midjourney

“Gina, just think, all the money we’re going to save on takeout,” Leo laughed.

“That’s because we’re on healthy eating plans,” I grinned.

And now, after all that work, all that sacrifice, it was finally here.

A plate of food | Source: Midjourney
A plate of food | Source: Midjourney

I arrived at the venue an hour early, hoping for a quiet moment before the ceremony. I wanted to walk the aisle alone, soak it all in.

I just wanted to breathe, and do my makeup, and drink champagne while I walked around, taking the fairytale in.

Instead, I saw a bride standing at my altar. She had her back to me, and she was smoothing out her veil.

A glass of champagne on a table | Source: Midjourney
A glass of champagne on a table | Source: Midjourney

She wasn’t just any bride. She was Jessica, my sister.

Dressed in a beautiful white wedding dress. Watching the venue’s staff run around with the final preparations. Some of the guests were already gathering.

A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney
A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney

Leo had wanted our closest family to arrive early for a photoshoot.

“We’re only going to get married once, Gina,” he said. “Let’s make it magical. I have my students coming in to take our photographs. It’s going to be wonderful.”

“Is that your version of extra credit?” I asked my fiancé as he scrolled through his laptop.

A man with a laptop, smiling | Source: Midjourney
A man with a laptop, smiling | Source: Midjourney

“It’s more like me allowing them to give us a wedding present.”

That was one of the things I loved most about Leo. He had been a wildlife photographer for years, constantly flying to the best game parks. But after an accident on a safari a few years ago, Leo had decided to stay local and teach at a college instead.

It was his passion for capturing moments in time that hooked me.

A close up of a giraffe in the wild | Source: Midjourney
A close up of a giraffe in the wild | Source: Midjourney

Music started playing from somewhere, and I was brought back to my nightmare.

Jessica, the bride.

My chest tightened. My ears rang.

And guess what?

My sister turned and flashed me a smug smile.

A shocked woman with braided hair | Source: Midjourney
A shocked woman with braided hair | Source: Midjourney

“Oh!” She clasped her hands together. “You’re early! I thought I’d have everything sorted before you got here. Well… that ruins the surprise.”

I couldn’t even process what she was saying.

“Surprise?” I echoed, my voice hollow.

Jessica sighed dramatically as if I was the problem here. As if I was the one ruining something special. As if I was the one who was raining on her parade.

A frowning bride | Source: Midjourney
A frowning bride | Source: Midjourney

“Gina, come on,” she said. “Why waste a perfectly good setup? Two weddings in one! Genius, right, sis? And you know how Ben has been pushing me to get married lately.”

My stomach dropped.

“You… so you didn’t just show up in a wedding dress? You planned on getting married at my wedding? Are you insane?”

A smug bride standing outside | Source: Midjourney
A smug bride standing outside | Source: Midjourney

She tilted her head, pouting.

“Mom said that ‘insane’ isn’t a word we use, Gina,” she rolled her eyes. “Be nice. And come on, don’t be so selfish!”

Selfish?

Me? At my own wedding? The one place I was supposed to be selfish and controlling?

A woman with her hands on her head | Source: Midjourney
A woman with her hands on her head | Source: Midjourney

That word lit something inside me. Something angry. Something dangerous.

Jessica had spent her entire life taking from me. From borrowing clothes and never returning them to stealing my ideas and passing them off as her own. She would even whisper lies to get our parents on her side.

But this?

This was next-level pathetic. This was next-level evil.

A pile of clothing on an ottoman | Source: Midjourney
A pile of clothing on an ottoman | Source: Midjourney

I looked around. My wedding planner, Bella, was staring at Jessica like she was a live grenade. My guests, the poor souls who had arrived early, were whispering in disbelief.

Even Jessica’s own fiancé, Ben, looked deeply uncomfortable.

“Jess, you told me that Gina agreed!” he sighed. “I should have known better.”

A groom wearing a green tux | Source: Midjourney
A groom wearing a green tux | Source: Midjourney

My vision sharpened.

I smiled.

Fine. If Jessica wanted a wedding, she could have one.

“Bella, did you know about this?” I asked.

“No, not at all, Gina!” she said. “I was just making sure that the bridal suite w

“You got lucky, kid. We have plenty of leftovers today, and you can take all of it home,” said Steve. He was the head chef at Alice’s restaurant and would frequently keep the leftovers for Christopher, the little child who often dropped by their restaurant for food.

“Oh really? Is it actually so much food? Do I have enough to share with my friends?” Christopher’s eyes lit up.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Yes, Chris,” Steve replied with a huge smile. “Just wait here; I’ll get the packets for you.”

Christopher was delighted after receiving the food packets. He thanked Steve with a huge smile, waved goodbye, and walked away happily.

Alice, on the other hand, had no idea this was common practice at her restaurant until she saw Christopher leave one night. However, she wasn’t convinced that he was the type to eat leftovers to keep his stomach full. “I should find out what happened to this kid. After all, he doesn’t look homeless,” she thought to herself as she watched him walk away.

For the next few days, she waited for him to come back, and when he did the third day, she met him at the restaurant. “Hi, there. Are you here for the leftovers?” she asked him gently.

“Yes!” Chris replied cheerfully. “Can you please call the cook? He must have kept those packets for me.”

Alice gave him a warm smile. “Well, there’s no need for that. I’ve prepared some fresh food for you so that you don’t eat the leftovers. By the way, what’s your name?”

“Oh, that’s really sweet of you, thank you,” Christopher replied. “My full name is Christopher, but you may call me Chris.”

“So, why don’t you eat at home, Chris?” Alice asked. “Is your mom sick?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Christopher’s expression changed. “Well, actually … I live at an orphanage, and they don’t feed me well. Every time I come here, your employees help me. I’m grateful to you for that. Anyway, I’ll leave now,” he said and hurried away.

Alice had a sneaking suspicion that the boy had been hiding something all along. So that day, she decided to follow him. And what she saw next left her stunned.

Instead of stopping at an orphanage, Chris went to a house, left the bag of food on the porch, and ran away. Soon, an older woman came out; she looked around in puzzlement, took the bag, and went back inside.

Alice was about to knock on the door and ask that lady who she was and how she knew Christopher, but before she could, she got an urgent call from the restaurant and had to leave.

The next day when Christopher came to the restaurant again, she was already waiting for him. “There’s something you need to explain to me, Chris. I know you’ve been taking the food for somebody else. Be honest, who is she?”

“I’m sorry, I lied to you,” Chris instantly admitted. “But I’ve been taking food for my granny. She’s the only family I have now.”

Alice was stunned. “Then why do you stay in an orphanage?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Chris frowned. “When my parents passed away, my grandmother didn’t get custody because she wasn’t financially stable. She can’t even afford food, so every day, I collect food from here and drop it off at her house.”

Alice was proud of how Chris was looking after his old grandmother, but at the same time, she felt terrible for their situation. So that day, she went to his grandmother and told her everything. Christopher’s grandmother Edith was taken aback when she realized it was her grandson who had been placing food packs on her doorstep all along.

“Is it really my grandson?” Edith almost broke into tears. “Oh, my God. I miss him terribly! I’m sorry I couldn’t be of assistance to him.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Alice assured her. “There’s a way I can help you and your grandson.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

That day, Alice went to the orphanage where Christopher stayed and applied for the boy’s custody. Fortunately, the formalities were quickly completed, and Christopher was able to return to his grandmother’s home.

“I don’t know how to repay you for what you’ve done Alice,” Edith thanked her. “I’ve always wanted to be with my grandson, but the circumstances were such that—” Edith began crying.

“There’s no need to thank me, ma’am,” Alice replied. “I was more than happy to help. Since I lost both of my parents when I was young, I understand the value of being surrounded by loved ones.”

Edith took Alice’s hands in hers. “I can’t make up for it, but you’re welcome to come to see us whenever you want. After all, you’re like family to us.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“That’s sweet of you, ma’am,” Alice said, almost tear-eyed. “I would love to do that. I already like Chris a lot. He’s a nice boy.”

“Oh yes, he is,” Edith agreed. “Now, I just need the means to support him.”

“Oh, in that case, I have something to offer you…”

Edith had thought that Alice would offer her a job at the restaurant, but when she heard what it was, she burst into tears again.

“I know it might be a bit too much to ask for, but ever since I lost my parents, I have had no one to look after me,” Alice said. “So, I’m looking for someone who will love me like a mother. I’m hoping you’ll accept the position. As far as Chris’ education is concerned, it’s my responsibility because I’m his guardian.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Of course, honey,” Edith replied as he embraced her. “I’ll never be able to repay your generosity. You literally appeared in our lives like an angel.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Alice said. “I have a family now because of you, and I think that’s the greatest wealth I can ever have.”

What can we learn from this story?

Not all heroes wear capes. Alice saved Christopher and his grandmother from misery and played the role of a hero in their lives.
Learn to be compassionate and kind to others. Just how Alice was to Christopher and his grandmother Edith.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a man who gave a jaw-dropping gift to his fiancé.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.

Advertisement
Related posts
Woman in the bedroom | Source: Shutterstock
Woman Invites Man She Met Online to Her Home, Then Finds His Photo at a Cemetery Before His Arrival — Story of the Day

March 20, 2025

Shutterstock
Bride Kicks Out Homeless Man from Wedding until He Sings a Song Her Late Dad Sang for Her — Story of the Day

January 07, 2025

Old lady in a supermarket | Source: Shutterstock
Stories
Poor Boy Pays for Old Lady’s Groceries, His Granny Gets $230k to Pay for Treatment Days Later – Story of the Day

February 20, 2025

After two years behind the wheel, Cleo had seen every kind of passenger a taxi could carry: the 3 a.m. party crowds stumbling over their feet, families racing to catch flights, and guilty-looking businessmen who reeked of cocktails and bad decisions. She’d heard every story, dried more than a few tears, and learned to read people before they even opened her cab door.

A woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash
A woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash

The yellow cab’s headlights cut through the November fog as Cleo guided her taxi down the empty streets of downtown that night.

Her back ached and the baby seemed determined to practice gymnastics against her ribs. At eight months pregnant, her night shift was getting harder. But bills don’t pay themselves, right?

“Just a few more hours, my love,” she whispered, rubbing her swollen belly. “Then we can go home to Chester.”

The baby kicked in response, making her smile despite everything. Chester, her orange tabby, was probably sprawled across her pillow at home, shedding orange fur everywhere. These days, that cat was the closest thing Cleo had as a family.

A tabby cat sitting on a table | Source: Unsplash
A tabby cat sitting on a table | Source: Unsplash

The mention of home brought unwanted memories flooding back. Five months ago, she’d bounded up those same stairs to their apartment, her heart racing with excitement.

She’d planned everything perfectly — the candle-lit dinner, her husband Mark’s favorite lasagna, the little pair of baby shoes she’d wrapped in silver paper.

“We’re having a baby, honey!” she’d said, sliding the package across the table.

A woman holding tiny baby shoes | Source: Freepik
A woman holding tiny baby shoes | Source: Freepik

Mark had stared at the shoes, his face draining of color. The silence stretched until Cleo couldn’t bear it.

“Say something.”

“I can’t do this, Cleo.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“Jessica’s pregnant too. With my child. Three months along.”

The candles had burned low as Cleo’s world collapsed. Jessica. His secretary. The woman he’d sworn was “just a friend.”

An upset man | Source: Pexels
An upset man | Source: Pexels

“How long were you cheating on me?”

“Does it matter?”

It hadn’t, really. Within a week, Mark was gone. Within two, he’d cleaned out their joint account. Now, at 32, Cleo worked double shifts, trying to save enough for when the baby arrived.

“Your father might have forgotten about us,” she whispered to her bump, forcing back tears as she snapped back to the moment, “but we’re gonna make it. You’ll see.”

A teary-eyed woman | Source: Unsplash
A teary-eyed woman | Source: Unsplash

But that night, just three weeks before her due date, with her ankles swollen and her maternity uniform straining against her belly, Cleo encountered something different.

The clock read 11:43 p.m. when she spotted him — a lone figure stumbling along the highway’s shoulder.

Through the haze of street lamps and drizzling rain, he emerged like a ghost from the shadows of 42nd Street. Even from a distance, something about him made her pulse quicken.

Silhouette of a man on the road at night | Source: Pexels
Silhouette of a man on the road at night | Source: Pexels

His clothes hung in dirty tatters and his dark hair plastered his face in wet ropes. He cradled one arm against his chest, dragging his right leg as he stumbled along the empty sidewalk.

Cleo’s hand instinctively moved to her rounded belly as she watched the man through the windshield. She should have been home an hour ago, curl

Miranda’s recent breakup was not just a mere end to a relationship; it was a public spectacle that left deep scars.

Her boyfriend, the person she trusted the most, betrayed her trust in the most humiliating way possible.

The pain of the betrayal was exacerbated by its public nature, making her feel exposed and vulnerable to the judgmental eyes of others.

This emotional turmoil plunged Miranda into a state of depression, a dark cloud that seemed to follow her every step, making even the simplest tasks feel insurmountable.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

Despite her inner turmoil, Miranda understood the stark reality of her situation.

As an immigrant waitress striving to build a life in a new country, the luxury of time to heal and mend her broken heart was a commodity she couldn’t afford.

The fear of deportation loomed over her like a constant shadow, a threat that could become reality with the loss of her job.

This job wasn’t just a means to an end; it was her lifeline, her only anchor in a storm that threatened to sweep her away.

In the bustling kitchen of one of the city’s most renowned restaurants, Michael, the stern and no-nonsense boss, stands with arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on Miranda.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

The air is thick with tension, punctuated only by the sizzle and pop of cooking food.

Miranda, a bit disheveled and clearly distraught, stands before him, her stance meek and apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Michael, I know I’m late again,” Miranda begins, her voice barely above a whisper. She shifts uncomfortably, her eyes darting to the ground.

“I’ve been going through a lot lately… my boyfriend, he—he left me. And it was all so public, so humiliating. I’m trying to keep it together, but it’s hard.”

Michael’s expression remains impassive, unmoved by Miranda’s plea. “Miranda, your personal life is your own business,” he says, his tone firm and unyielding.

“But when it starts affecting your work, it becomes my business.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

This restaurant has a reputation to maintain, and we can’t do that with staff showing up late. I need you to be here, fully committed, when your shift starts. No exceptions.”

Miranda nods, fighting back tears. “Please, Michael, I need this job. If I lose it, I—I could be deported.

I have nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. I promise, this won’t happen again.”

Michael sighs, his features softening ever so slightly, betraying a hint of empathy amidst his stern facade.

“I understand you’re going through a rough patch, Miranda. And I’m not heartless. But understand this,” he pauses, ensuring his words carry the weight of his seriousness, “one more mistake, and I won’t have a choice.

I can’t make exceptions, not even for you. This is your last warning, Miranda. Make it count.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

Miranda nods again, a silent vow to herself and to Michael. As she turns to start her shift, her determination is palpable.

Miranda’s heart skipped a beat the moment her eyes landed on Colin and Leslie, sitting cozily at one of her tables.

Memories flooded back, each more painful than the last. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she felt rooted to the spot, unable to move or think clearly.

With a heavy heart and trembling hands, she made her way to the back of the restaurant, hoping to escape their gaze.

Finding Michael, she pleaded in a voice that barely rose above a whisper, “Michael, please, I can’t serve that table.

It’s… it’s Colin, my ex, and Leslie. I… I just can’t face them, not after everything.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

Her eyes were wide, filled with a mix of fear and desperation, silently begging him to understand.

Michael, busy overseeing the kitchen’s chaos, barely glanced up. “Miranda, everyone’s got their battles.

But when you step into this restaurant, you leave those battles at the door. We’re short-staffed, and I need you out there, doing your job, not hiding in the back.”

Miranda’s heart sank as she realized there was no escaping this situation. “But Michael, if I mess this up, you said—”

“I meant what I said,” Michael cut her off, his tone firm. “This is your job, Miranda. Do it well, and we won’t have a problem. Fail, and well, you know the consequences.”

Swallowing hard, Miranda nodded, a sense of resignation washing over her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

She straightened her uniform, took a deep breath, and walked back into the dining hall with a forced smile plastered on her face.

Each step felt like walking through quicksand, her heart pounding against her chest.

Miranda’s steps slowed as she neared the table where Colin and Leslie sat, their smug expressions turning into mocking smiles as they caught sight of her.

The air around her seemed to thicken, making it harder to breathe, harder to think. Colin’s voice broke through the tense silence, dripping with condescension.

“Look who we have here, Miranda, serving tables. I guess people from your background really do find their calling in the service industry, huh?”

Leslie’s laughter, high-pitched and cruel, echoed Colin’s sentiments, amplifying the humiliation. Miranda felt the sting of their words like a physical slap.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

It wasn’t the first time she’d encountered such blatant racism, but the setting and the source made it cut deeper.

In the past, Miranda’s fiery spirit would have retaliated with sharp words of her own, defending her dignity and her heritage.

But this time, the stakes were too high, and the consequences of lashing out could cost her everything.

With a Herculean effort, Miranda suppressed the anger boiling within her, forcing her lips into a semblance of a polite smile.

“Good evening, Colin, Leslie,” she managed to say, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “Can I start you off with some drinks, or are you ready to order?”

Miranda, clinging to the last strands of her dignity, manages a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Each word, each action from Colin and Leslie, is like a needle pricking at her already wounded heart.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

But she stands there, in the eye of her personal storm, determined not to let it engulf her.

As Colin deliberately drops his fork with a clatter, his eyes gleam with a cruel sort of anticipation.

“Oops,” he says, a smirk spreading across his face. “Miranda, would you mind?” His voice is laced with feigned politeness that fools no one.

Miranda’s heart sinks as she bends down to retrieve the fork, feeling the weight of their stares.

But then, with a flick of his foot, Colin sends the fork skittering further under the table. Miranda’s breath hitches in her chest.

She pauses, a moment of hesitation, before she realizes there’s no escaping this humiliation.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

She gets down on her knees and reaches under the table, her cheeks burning with shame.

Leslie’s laughter rings out, sharp and mocking, a sound that seems to echo off the walls of the restaurant.

“Look at her go!” she exclaims, clapping her hands in delight. “Who knew Miranda was so good at fetch?”

Miranda can feel the eyes of other customers on her now, curious or pitying, it doesn’t matter; each gaze is a weight added to her burden.

She retrieves the fork, her movements stiff and mechanical, and straightens up, offering it to Colin with a hand that barely trembles.

Colin takes the fork, his amusement clear as day. “Thanks, Miranda,” he says, his voice dripping with insincerity. “You’re a real team player.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

Miranda turns away, her smile faltering as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

Each step feels heavier than the last, a testament to the effort it takes not to crumble right there and then.

Inside, she’s a whirlwind of emotions—anger, embarrassment, sadness—but she locks them away.

Right now, she needs to be strong, not for Colin, not for Leslie, but for herself. She reminds herself that this moment, however painful, does not define her.

Miranda returns to Colin and Leslie’s table, carrying the Mexican stew with a steadiness that belies the turmoil inside her.

She places the dish before Colin with a practiced smile, hoping this will be the end of their cruel entertainment at her expense.

However, Colin’s immediate reaction dashes any such hope.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

He leans forward, inhaling deeply over the stew before making a show of tasting it. His face contorts into an exaggerated expression of disappointment.

“This? This is supposed to be spicy?” He looks up at Miranda, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Do you even know what Mexican food should taste like?”

Before Miranda can respond, Colin’s hand flips the plate, sending the stew cascading onto her pristine white uniform.

The shock of the moment freezes Miranda in place, stew dripping down her uniform, warm and staining.

“It’s no problem at all,” Miranda manages to say through gritted teeth, forcing a smile as she reaches for napkins, her hands shaking. “I’ll just clean this up.”

Leslie’s laughter cuts through the hum of the restaurant, harsh and mocking. “Oh, look at that!

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

The stew actually improves that boring uniform. Adds some character, don’t you think, Colin?”

Their laughter fills Miranda’s ears as she cleans