Inside the package was a stack of old letters, each one addressed to me… in Grandma’s handwriting. My breath caught in my throat as I opened the first one.
“Sweetheart,” it read, “if you’re reading this, then something went wrong.”
Letter after letter revealed a secret my grandmother had never spoken aloud. She had been hiding money—a lot of it—from my mother. Why? Because years ago, my mom had tried to manipulate her into signing over her house and assets. Grandma refused, knowing my mom only cared about control, not love.
The final letter held a key and an address—an old safety deposit box at a bank across town.
The next morning, I went. Inside the box were legal documents and a will—a real will—leaving everything to me. My mother had faked the one she gave the lawyer.
I confronted her. Her face turned pale, realizing her secret was out. The funeral had been her last chance to erase the truth.
But Grandma was always one step ahead.
I honored her memory by making sure her real wishes were followed—and I’ll never forget the lesson she left behind: love protects, but greed always gets exposed in the end.
