Brenda is baffled when her late son’s wife denies knowing her and stunned when she visits her son’s grave and sees her daughter-in-law’s headstone nearby. She seeks answers from her son’s best friend, but his suspicious behavior drives Brenda to unravel the mystery alone.
Christopher was only 27 when he died in a tragic accident, leaving his mother, Brenda, to face an endless abyss of grief. Her world was shrouded in darkness following his death, and her health suffered.
Now, after a year in a clinic, Brenda had traveled hundreds of miles to visit her son’s grave. Bearing the weight of grief that no words can express, she got off at the metro station in the city where Chris had lived, died, and was laid to rest.
As Brenda headed to the station exit, she saw a familiar face in the crowd: her widowed daughter-in-law, Harper. Brenda had planned to meet Harper after visiting the cemetery and now hurried after the young woman to surprise her.
“Harper! Harper? Wait a second!” She patted the woman’s shoulder from behind.
“I’m not Harper. You’ve got me wrong, lady!” The young woman arrogantly brushed away Brenda’s hand and rushed away.
That’s strange! Brenda thought. My eyes couldn’t be deceiving me. She has the same eyes…same hair color…and voice. She is Harper!
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
But the lady had vanished into the crowd. Brenda hailed a cab outside the station and headed to the cemetery. She was haunted by the encounter throughout her ride and couldn’t understand why Harper had acted so strangely.
“Ma’am…we’ve arrived,” the cabbie said as he pulled over at the cemetery gate, jolting Brenda out of her thoughts.
The silence was haunting as Brenda searched the row of graves for Christopher’s resting place. A wave of emotions washed over her when she found it. She broke into tears as she brushed her trembling hands on Christopher’s tombstone.
Disbelief surged through Brenda when her gaze shifted to the neighboring grave.
The epitaph etched on the headstone horrified her.
In Loving Memory of Harper. S.
January 8, 1995 – December 3, 2020
Forever cherished, Forever missed.
Rest in peace.
“Oh my God…Harper passed away last week and nobody told me?” Brenda gasped, unable to believe her eyes.
A haunting question immediately loomed in her mind: “If Harper is dead, then who was the girl at the subway?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Brenda snapped out of her thoughts when she heard someone raking dry leaves. The cemetery’s groundskeeper was working nearby. Brenda approached him and asked if he could tell her about Harper’s funeral.
The guy lit a cigarette and sighed, exhaling a puff of smoke into the air. “It took place last week. It was strange… There weren’t any mourners, just the funeral service employees. They brought the coffin, buried it, erected a simple headstone, and left. It wasn’t even a proper funeral.”
“Did anybody visit her grave after that?” Brenda frowned.
“Not that I know of, Ma’am,” he replied. “I work here all day and live on the grounds. I keep watch over the cemetery all the time and haven’t seen anybody visit that woman’s grave.”
“Alright…thanks,” Brenda said and turned around. Nothing made sense to her.
Curious to unravel the mystery surrounding her daughter-in-law and her demise, Brenda decided to meet Jake, her late son’s best friend and business partner.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Jake was caught off guard at seeing his best friend’s mother unexpectedly standing on his doorstep, smiling at him. He invited Brenda in, but she could sense his uneasiness.
When Brenda entered, she saw luggage in the living room, and she immediately asked Jake about his travel plans.
“I’m leaving this state, Mrs. Sutton. Been a rough year since Chris passed,” Jake said, a strange disappointment and worry etched on his face. “The company is bankrupt so I decided to move somewhere far away from all the mess I’ve been dealing with.”
“How can the company be bankrupt, Jake?” Brenda raised an eyebrow.
“What’s going on? I saw Harper’s tomb beside my son’s grave. Nobody even told me she passed away! Tell me…what happened to my daughter-in-law? How did she die?”
“Mrs. Sutton, I… I didn’t want to disturb you. After Chris’s passing, you were so disturbed and heartbroken. When I learned you’d be spending a year in the hospital, I was afraid your condition might worsen if you found out about the company’s financial crisis and what Harper did,” Jake said, haunting Brenda further.
“What did Harper do, Jake?” Brenda asked. “I want to know everything.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Jake took a deep breath. “Well, Harper inherited the company after Chris’s death, but she declined to manage it because she didn’t know anything about the business. So, by mutual agreement, I stepped in to manage the company because I was already Chris’s business partner.”
“Honestly, the business hit rock bottom after your son’s death. We were on the verge of declaring bankruptcy when Harper suggested finding investors and taking out loans to revive the company,” Jake explained.
“But…you said Harper declined any say in the business,” Brenda said, her suspicions raised.
“Yes, but we were all desperate to save the company. We agreed to Harper’s idea. But just a week ago, Harper withdrew the five million dollar loan money and fled. The police started looking for her.”
“Oh, my God! Harper stole the loan money?” Brenda gasped in disbelief. It was too hard to accept that her late son’s wife had destroyed his hard work after his death.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“We never expected her to backstab us like this, but she paid the price for her betrayal,” Jake added. “The cops discovered a burned car that had crashed into a cliff near the woods. It was Harper’s car. She met with a tragic accident and died immediately.”
“What? Oh my God…” Brenda exclaimed.
“The police recovered a woman’s completely burned body with Harper’s gold letter ‘H’ pendant. There were charred remains of hundred dollar bills. Everything else was incinerated…the case was closed as accidental death.”
“Jesus…Harper ruined everything,” Brenda said. “But wait…what about Christopher’s hard work? It doesn’t make sense that the company went bankrupt after he died.”
“I understand your frustration, Mrs. Sutton,” Jake said. “But circumstances spiraled out of control. Harper paid a heavy price for her actions, but her funeral was dignified. Many guests attended and everyone grieved her tragic death…despite the wicked thing she did to all of us.”
“Harper’s funeral??” Brenda grew suspicious. The cemetery groundskeeper had told her nobody attended Harper’s funeral. Something seemed incredibly fishy to Brenda. Jake’s anxiety and restlessness, coupled with his sudden decision to leave the city, fueled her doubts further.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Uh, when is your flight, Jake?” Brenda asked.
“Early tomorrow morning…6 a.m.,” he said.
“Do you mind if I stay here for the night?” Brenda asked, a plan brewing in her mind. “I’m wary about renting a hotel room all alone for tonight in a strange city.”
Jake thought for a while but eventually agreed and showed Brenda to the guest room. Brenda put out the lights but never slept. Instead, she anxiously waited for Jake’s bedroom lights to go off so she could search for a clue to help her connect the dots.
Once Jake was asleep, Brenda headed to the living room and rummaged through Jake’s luggage. Her hands trembled with a mix of anxiety and fear. What if Jake was pretending to be asleep? What if he caught her prying? The consequences haunted Brenda. But she was determined to unravel the truth.
Brenda’s search turned into her worst nightmare when she uncovered two fake passports hidden within a secret compartment. One featured a photograph of her supposedly ‘dead’ daughter-in-law, Harper, but under a different name.
“Sarah? Oh, who are you trying to fool, Harper?” Brenda muttered.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“John?” Brenda’s face twisted with suspicion when she saw Jake’s photograph under a different name in the other passport. “What’s going on here? Are they involved in something deeper…something I can’t even imagine?”
She then found two plane tickets to London booked under the fake names. A weird sensation crawled up Brenda’s gut.
Jake and his accomplice, Sarah, who was actually Harper, were up to something foul. Something had to be done.
She quickly put the luggage back as it was and hurried to the pharmacy at the end of the lane. Minutes later, she returned to Jake’s house with sleeping tablets.
Brenda was already in the kitchen making breakfast when Jake hurried downstairs at 5 a.m.
“Good morning, Jake! Have breakfast before you leave for the trip!” Brenda smiled warmly. “Here’s your orange juice.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Sutton, that’s really kind of you.” Jake sipped from the glass Brenda gave him. “It tastes…uhm…nice….”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Around twenty minutes later, Jake dozed off on the couch, just like Brenda had wanted. Harper couldn’t fly without a passport and plane ticket, so now, Brenda had to wait for her to call or text Jake.
“What’s taking her so long? It’s 5:30,” Brenda mumbled under her breath.
Suddenly, Jake’s phone rang, shattering the stillness in the room. The caller name, “Sarah,” flashed on the screen. But Brenda never answered the call. Eventually, a message notification appeared.
“How could you oversleep, idiot? Have you forgotten we’re flying to London today? I’m getting a taxi and coming to your house right now.”
“Come…I’m waiting for you…HARPER!”
Brenda grinned wickedly as she hid behind the front door. Around 30 minutes later, Brenda peered through the peephole and saw a taxi pull up outside. She quickly called the cops.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
The door creaked open, and Harper stepped inside. Brenda could not believe her eyes when she saw her face. Her daughter-in-law was very much alive!
“Jake! Are you kidding me? Get up,” Harper barked at an unconscious Jake lying on the couch. That’s when a familiar voice spoke from behind, startling her.
“ARE YOU LOOKING FOR SOMEONE, HARPER?” Brenda said, striking a hard blow to Harper’s head with a vase.
A startled Harper collapsed on the floor and blacked out. Moments later, Brenda heard police sirens and hurried outside. She explained the situation to the cops and showed them the fake passports and flight tickets. Jake and Harper were hospitalized and later transferred to the police station for interrogation.
Jake refused to confess to his crimes, but Harper came clean when she learned her sentence could get cut off if she confessed the truth.
“We bribed a morgue worker and stole a homeless woman’s body. We put the body, wearing my gold chain, in the driver’s seat of my car and set it alight…Then we rammed the car from behind, causing it to fall off the cliff to make it appear like an accident.”
“And what about the money you stole?” The detective stared Harper in the eye.
“The five million has been transferred to our new bank accounts…we thought everything was covered…the new passports, the bank accounts, the flight…Jake and I thought we’d get away with it. But…” Harper paused and broke down, burying her head in her cuffed hands.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
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My Brother & His Fiancée Hired Me to Make Their Wedding Cake — They Refused to Pay, So Our Grandma Got the Perfect Payback
When Emily bakes her heart into her brother’s wedding cake, she expects gratitude, not betrayal. But when payment turns into a family scandal, it’s Grandma Margaret who serves the real justice. In a world where passion is mistaken for obligation, Emily learns that respect is the sweetest ingredient of them all.
You learn a lot about people when cake and money are involved.
I’m Emily, 25, and I love to bake. I work in a bakery, making cakes for every occasion. Growing up, it was just a hobby but the more I learned, the more my passion grew. Cakes became my love language.
Birthdays, holidays, breakups, random Tuesdays: cake is always the answer.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
I’ve been piping frosting roses since I was sixteen and built a little Instagram following along the way. Which is how I landed my job in a bakery.
“You want to work in a bakery, Emily?” my father had asked. “Seriously?”
“It’s for now,” I said in return. “It’s just for me to learn and work my way up. I’m going to save money as well. I’m going to culinary school, Dad. One way or another.”
“This is a hobby, Emily,” he retorted. “You’ll learn that one day when you need help paying your bills.”
A close up of a frowning man | Source: Midjourney
Still, I had the support of the rest of my family and to sweeten the deal with them, I had never charged my family for personal, small bakes. It’s just something that I didn’t do, unless they came in through the bakery, of course. Anything through the bakery is business. Strictly.
But they always gave me a little something. Gift cards. Flowers. Sometimes a few folded notes tucked into my apron pocket. It was sweet. It felt… respectful almost.
A vase of flowers on a table | Source: Midjourney
Then my little brother, Adam, got engaged to Chelsea.
And everything changed before my eyes.
They were 23. A bit too young for marriage in my humble opinion but I didn’t want to voice my concerns.
A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney
“They’ll think you’re bitter because you’re single, honey,” my mother said over pizza and wine one night.
“But I’m not! I’m just genuinely concerned, Mom,” I replied, picking the olives off my slice.
“I know, sweetheart,” she agreed. “I am, too. But Adam’s convinced that Chelsea is the one for him. Let’s see how that ends up. Look, I think she’s high maintenance, but it’s clear that she loves him. That’s enough for me.”
If it was enough for my mother, then it was enough for me.
A box of pizza and a bottle of wine | Source: Midjourney
But at 23, they were all Pinterest boards and highlighter pens, planning a wedding that looked like a lifestyle influencer’s fever dream. When they asked me to make their wedding cake, I said yes.
Of course, I did. I wanted to. I was proud.
But I had to be realistic with them, too.
“This isn’t a birthday cake, guys,” I said. “It’s three tiers. For 75 guests. The ingredients alone are going to cost me. I won’t do it through the bakery because the price will be insane. So, I’m going to do it at home.”
A woman sitting at a kitchen table | Source: Midjourney
“That’s totally fair,” Adam said, looping his arm around Chelsea. “Of course, you’ll be compensated, Em.”
I quoted them $400. And honestly, if they had come through the bakery, it would have easily been $1200 at least.
They agreed.
“But I’ll do a taste-test at the bakery,” I said, pouring cups of tea. “That way you guys can get the full experience and decide on a final flavor. Deal?”
A cup of tea on a table | Source: Midjourney
“Deal,” Chelsea said tightly. “I do want to have the full bridal experience, and this is one of them. I was worried that you’d choose the flavor instead.”
I was frowning on the inside. Which respectful baker would just choose a flavor without consulting her clients? I chose to smile and push a plate of fresh eclairs toward them.
A woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
A week later, they came into the bakery for a tasting. The space smelled like vanilla and lemon glaze when they walked in. I’d prepped everything. Three sample plates, fresh linen and even a cinnamon-scented candle.
It was the most effort I’d ever put into family.
“Whoa, Em,” Adam grinned. “This looks fancy. So, this is how everyone else gets the Emily-treatment?”
The interior of a bakery | Source: Midjourney
“I didn’t know you did it like this,” Chelsea nodded, her delicate fingers adjusting her blouse.
“I wanted you to feel like clients,” I said, trying not to sound nervous. “Because… you are.”
My boss let me use the space for tasting as long as I handled the costs.
They tried the chocolate raspberry. All it got was polite nods. They tried the lemon lavender and exchanged a glance.
A woman standing in a bakery | Source: Midjourney
But when they bit into the strawberry shortcake, their expressions changed.
Adam actually closed his eyes.
“Okay… that’s delicious!” he exclaimed.
Chelsea licked a bit of cream from her lip.
“It’s nostalgic, Emily. Like whipped cream summers. It’s perfect.”
A cake square on a white plate | Source: Midjourney
They chose it for all three tiers.
And in that moment, I thought that maybe they really saw me. That they recognized my talent. And maybe this wedding would pull us closer.
I sent them numerous sketches so that they could be involved in every aspect of the process.
I baked for three days straight. I decorated the cake in the early hours of the wedding morning. I even drove the cake to the venue myself. It was the most intricate thing I’d ever done.
Cake sketches on a page | Source: Midjourney
Three tiers, whipped mascarpone, fresh strawberries glazed in honey. I set it up with trembling hands and a heart full of pride.
And then they took it. Smiled. Thanked me.
And never paid.
At first, I thought that it was okay. That we’d deal with it after the wedding. I mean, I didn’t really expect them to hand me the cash then and there.
But a little reassurance would have been nice.
A beautiful wedding cake | Source: Midjourney
I discovered the truth ten minutes later, when Adam cornered me near the bar, his voice low and tight.
“Emily, you’re seriously expecting us to pay you? For cake? I heard you telling Mom that you’re expecting it.”
“Yes?” I blinked.
“But you never charge family,” he said simply, like I was stupid.
“This isn’t a batch of birthday cupcakes, Adam.”
A pensive groom | Source: Midjourney
Chelsea slipped beside him, her tone glossy and fake, just like her hair extensions.
“It’s a wedding gift. We thought you’d understand. Just let it go,” Chelsea said, winking. “Be generous, sister-in-law. It’s family.”
I stood there, stunned.
It was funny because someone had overheard the entire thing.
A close up of a bride | Source: Midjourney
Grandma Margaret.
She’s the kind of woman who wears pearls to the grocery store and could end a war with a single look. When she speaks, everyone listens.
Dinner had ended, the buffet clearing out as the reception hall silenced. Speeches began. The mic passed from best man to maid of honor. Then, casually, Grandma stood.
A wedding buffet | Source: Midjourney
She smiled as she took the mic, glass of champagne in her hand, her eyes sharp.
“I’ve always dreamed of giving my grandchildren something special for their honeymoons,” she began. “For Adam and Chelsea, I had something wonderful planned. The idea came to me at their Greek God-inspired engagement party. An all-expenses-paid trip to Greece!”
The room erupted.
Chelsea gasped. Adam’s mouth dropped open.
Grandma raised a finger.
An older woman at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
“But now, I have no choice but to reconsider my decision.”
Silence took over.
She turned slowly. She looked at me and smiled gently. Then she looked at the cake.
“I believe that generosity should be met with gratitude. Especially within a family,” she said.
An older woman giving a speech | Source: Midjourney
People shifted in their seats. I knew most of them wanted the speeches to be done, they were ready for the dessert buffet and the music.
“I think you all know why,” she continued.
She handed her mic back with a polite smile and sipped her glass of champagne like she hadn’t just set the room on fire.
A glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t see Adam again until sunset, the light bleeding into soft amber across the reception lawn. I’d stepped outside, away from the clinking glasses, the sugar-high flower girls and the noisy music.
I just wanted to sit on a bench and let the breeze cool me down. The anger had started to wear off but the ache in my chest remained. It was like something I hadn’t known was fragile had finally cracked inside me.
Even I couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
A woman sitting outside | Source: Midjourney
Adam.
My baby brother, the kid who used to sit on the kitchen counter licking beaters while I piped frosting flowers. He looked wrecked, tie askew, forehead damp, lips pressed tight.
He had an envelope in his hand, already crumpled like he’d been squeezing it too hard.
“Em,” he said, his eyes darting around. “Wait.”
A groom standing outside | Source: Midjourney
I turned but I didn’t speak.
He thrust the envelope at me like it burned his fingers.
“Here,” he said. “It’s the $400… plus a little extra. I didn’t know how to push back, Em. Chelsea got so excited about calling it a ‘gift,’ and I didn’t want to start our marriage with a fight. But it didn’t sit right.”
“You just thought that I wouldn’t stand up for myself,” I said, my voice low and even.
A close up of a woman sitting on a bench | Source: Midjourney
He flinched. His shoulders sank.
I saw it then, not just guilt, but fear. Not of me. Of what being married to someone like Chelsea might cost me.
“No, that’s not… It wasn’t like that, Emily.”
“You agreed to pay me,” I said. “I gave you a discount, Adam. A huge one! I spent three days in my kitchen working myself sick. And you took it like it was owed to you.”
A groom with his hand in his hair | Source: Midjourney
“Chelsea said…” he looked at the ground. “I mean, we thought… family doesn’t charge family.”
“That’s funny,” I said. “Because you were both happy to treat me like a vendor until the bill came.”
I saw it then, the flicker of shame behind his eyes. Not just because he got caught. Because he knew I was right.
Chelsea appeared behind him a second later, her heels clicking like punctuation. She looked picture-perfect until you got close. Her mascara was smudged. Her smile was too tight.
A close up of a bride standing outside | Source: Midjourney
“Emily,” she said, in that performative, high-pitched tone she used when she was trying to charm her way out of trouble. “Seriously, it was just a misunderstanding. We didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t appreciated.”
I laughed, short and cold.
“You didn’t make me feel anything. You showed me exactly where I stood.”
“I didn’t think it would matter this much. I mean, you love baking,” she blinked, eyes glossy.
A frowning woman sitting outside | Source: Midjourney
“I do,” I said. “Which is why it hurts more. You didn’t just take money from me. You took respect. You treated my passion and my career like a party favor.”
Chelsea opened her mouth to argue. Then closed it. Her eyes flicked to the envelope in my hand.
There was $500 inside. No note. No apology. Just cash. Just damage control.
A woman holding a small crumpled envelope | Source: Midjourney
“I’m glad Grandma doesn’t see ‘family’ the way you do,” I said, slipping the envelope into my purse. “Because if she did, I’d have nothing left.”
Adam looked like he wanted to say something, anything, but couldn’t find the words. So he just stood there, hands stuffed in his pockets, watching his wedding slip further from the fairytale they’d built on someone else’s labor.
I turned and walked away before either of them could try again.
A upset groom | Source: Midjourney
And this time, they didn’t follow me. They went off together.
Later, just as dessert was being served and people were laughing again, Grandma stood once more.
She clinked her glass gently.
“I want to make something very clear, especially to my grandchildren and their new spouses. Generosity is a gift. Not an obligation. And it should never be repaid with greed or disrespect.”
A dessert buffet at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
People sat up straighter.
Grandma paused. She looked around the room with deliberate calm.
“I’ve given each of you the benefit of the doubt. And my honeymoon gift still stands, this time. But if I ever see something like this again?”
She smiled. Sweet. Lethal.
“I won’t just take away a trip. I’ll take everything else too, trust funds included.”
An older woman giving a speech at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
She nodded toward Adam. Then Chelsea.
Then sat down like she’d just read bedtime stories to kids.
“I see and hear everything, Emily,” she said later. “And no more giving discounts to ungrateful family. This is your career now, darling. Take a stand. And if you really want to go to culinary school, talk to me. Your trust fund is there for a reason. Why you’re trying to save money, only the Lord knows, child.”
“Thanks, Gran,” I smiled.
A smiling woman sitting at a wedding reception | Source: Midjourney
After, Adam started texting me on my birthday. On time. Chelsea began tagging and re-posting my bakes on socials.
At the next family barbecue, hosted by Chelsea and Adam, she hovered near the drinks table before walking over. Her smile was tight, eyes scanning for anyone nearby, like she didn’t want an audience.
She handed me a thank-you card with a massage gift card tucked inside.
Food on a grill | Source: Midjourney
“These were really good, by the way,” she said.
She meant the brownies, but the compliment landed weird, it like got stuck on the way out. Her tone was off. I nodded, said thanks, and watched her retreat like she’d completed a chore.
It wasn’t affection. It was fear. Respect. Caution.
And honestly? That worked just fine.
A woman standing in a backyard | Source: Midjourney
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