At Grandpa’s funeral, 18-year-old Dahlia feels isolated as her family fumes over the pitiful $1 inheritance. But when a stranger slips her a secret note, Dahlia is pulled into a mystery only she can solve.
I stood by the graveside, hands clenched in the pockets of my too-small black dress, listening to the priest’s droning voice blend with the rustle of the wind.
This was the saddest day of my life, but everyone else in the family seemed more concerned with glaring at each other than mourning Grandpa.
I could feel their bitterness lingering in the chilly October air, thick like syrup. One dollar each. That’s all Grandpa left us in his will, and they were furious. But me? I wasn’t angry. Just… hollow.
Grandpa wasn’t supposed to be gone. He was the only person who ever saw me, not the mess-up or the spare kid nobody paid attention to, but me. He let me in when no one else cared.
I stared down at the flowers resting on his coffin. I’d brought him a red rose, and it stood out among the white daisies everyone else had placed on the casket.
“One dollar,” Aunt Nancy hissed from behind me. “One damn dollar! That man was loaded, and this is what we get?”
Uncle Vic let out a bitter laugh. “Right? I swear he did it on purpose, the spiteful old man.”
“Typical Dad,” Mom muttered, crossing her arms tight across her chest. “He always played favorites, and Dahlia here was his little pet. Bet she got something we don’t know about.”
Aunt Nancy’s eyes cut toward me, sharp as glass. “What did he leave you, Dahlia? Anything? Don’t act like you didn’t get something.”
I stiffened. “I got the same as all of you.”
Mom’s fingers tightened over my shoulder. “Are you sure?” she asked in a low voice. “You were always with him. Maybe he told you something… think hard, Dahlia. You owe it to your family to share whatever he gave you.”
Memories came rushing back of Grandpa’s goofy stories about long-lost treasure and the butterscotch candies he always kept in his coat pocket.
Sometimes, he’d wink at me and say, “One day, kiddo, I’m leaving you a treasure. Real treasure!” But it was just a game, a joke between us.
I shook my head and turned my gaze back to the coffin. “What Grandpa gave me was his love, his stories, and a place that felt more like home than my actual home. Those things were worth more than money, and there’s no way I can—”
“Nobody cares about any of that!” Mom snapped. “Think, girl! What happened to all of his money?”
I shrugged. I truly didn’t know the answer to her question and didn’t care. Grandpa was gone. He was my confidant, my safe place, my friend. I’d lost the most important person in the world, but all they cared about was slapping a price tag on his death.
“She knows something,” Vic muttered, loud enough for me to hear.
Their voices twisted together, accusing, scheming — like they could squeeze secrets out of me if they tried hard enough. But I had no secrets that could earn them more money.
The second they realized there’d be no fortune, they turned away from the grave and stormed off. I could still hear them bickering as they walked away, lashing out at each other like vultures. It made me sick.
“You must be Dahlia.”
I looked up to see a woman, maybe in her 60s, with kind eyes and a worn leather bag slung over her shoulder. Her smile was soft and secretive, like she knew something the rest of us didn’t.
“I was a friend of your grandpa’s,” she said, leaning in as if we were co-conspirators. “He asked me to give you this.”
Before I could respond, she slipped a folded piece of paper into my hand and whispered, “Don’t let anyone see it, especially your family.”
Her presence felt surreal, almost dreamlike, and before I could say anything, she was gone, swallowed by the crowd of mourners. My heart pounded in my chest as I unfolded the note.
111 locker — Southern Railway Station.
For a second, I stood frozen, the words blurring in front of me. Then it hit me: Grandpa’s “treasure.” A laugh bubbled up from my throat, inappropriate and wild, but I couldn’t help it. He wasn’t joking after all.
That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The note was tucked under my pillow like a secret. Grandpa’s voice echoed in my mind, playful yet certain: “Locker number 111… There’s treasure in there, kiddo!”
A weight settled on my chest, something between grief and hope. What if this wasn’t just some wild goose chase? What if Grandpa had really left something for me, hidden away where no one else could reach?
The thought twisted around in my mind until I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to know what was in that locker.
I called a cab the next morning. It was the first thing I did after I woke up. As I tiptoed past the kitchen, I could hear Mom muttering on the phone about Grandpa’s will, probably trying to squeeze sympathy or cash out of anyone who would listen.
I clenched my jaw and slipped out the door, the chilly morning air hitting my skin like a slap.
The ride to Southern Railway Station felt like the longest 20 minutes of my life.
My knee bounced with nervous energy as the cab wound through narrow streets, past graffiti-covered walls, and empty coffee shops just starting to open. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror but didn’t say a word.
When we finally pulled up at the station, I stepped out and asked him to wait for me. I clutched the note tightly as I entered the train station.
The station smelled like diesel and stale popcorn. People rushed past me in every direction — commuters, travelers, strangers with places to go.
I hesitated at the entrance, suddenly feeling small and out of place. But then Grandpa’s voice floated back into my mind, steady and reassuring: “Real treasure, kiddo.”
I took a deep breath and headed toward the lockers and I could hear my heart pounding. Rows of metal boxes lined the wall, each one looking identical: gray, dented, and slightly rusty.
My eyes scanned the numbers until I found number 111.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the folded note. The key was taped to the back. With trembling fingers, I peeled it off and slid it into the lock.
For a second, it jammed, and I panicked. But then — click! The lock turned, and the door swung open.
Inside was a duffel bag. It was old, faded, and heavy. My hands shook as I pulled it out and unzipped it.
The bag was full of cash. Bundles upon bundles of it!
I gasped, my mind reeling. It couldn’t be real, could it? I reached in and pulled out a stack, flipping through crisp hundred-dollar bills. There had to be at least $150,000 in there.
And tucked inside the bag was another note, written in Grandpa’s messy scrawl:
For my beloved granddaughter, everything I saved is now yours. Take it and live free, kiddo. The rest of the family may not see your worth, but I’ve always believed in you.
Tears blurred my vision, and I hugged the note to my chest, a knot forming in my throat. This wasn’t just money. It was freedom — a way out.
Grandpa always knew how badly I needed to escape this family. And now, he’d given me exactly what I needed and tricked everyone else in the process!
I zipped the bag shut, slung it over my shoulder, and walked out of the station, my heart pounding in tune with my footsteps.
The early morning sun was just starting to peek through the clouds, casting everything in a soft, golden light. For the first time in years, I felt… light.
During the cab ride back, I stared out the window, watching the city come to life. I had options now. No more suffocating family dinners, no more being ignored or treated like an afterthought, no more being the family scapegoat.
I could leave. I could build something new.
The thought scared me as much as it excited me, but Grandpa’s voice echoed in the back of my mind: “Live free, kiddo.”
As the cab pulled up to my house, I made my decision. I wasn’t staying. Not another minute!
I didn’t even bother going inside. I pulled out my phone, booked a ticket to anywhere, and told the driver to head straight to the airport.
With the duffel bag in my lap and Grandpa’s note tucked safely in my pocket, I smiled for the first time in days.
I was free. And for the first time in my life, I knew exactly what that meant.
Doctor Raises Triplets after Mother Dies in Labor, in 5 Years Their Bio Dad Appears — Story of the Day
Doctor Spellman adopted and raised his sister’s triplets after she passed away during childbirth. But five years later, his life was turned upside down when the triplets’ bio father showed up to reclaim the children.
“Breathe, breathe. It’s all going to be okay,” Thomas gently told his sister, marching alongside her while she was being carried to the operation room on a gurney.
Leah’s sweaty brows furrowed as she tried to take a deep breath. “You’re… You’re the best older brother I could ask God for, Thomas,” she whispered as they entered the OR.
Leah had gone into labor at only 36 weeks of pregnancy, and the doctors had suggested performing a C-section. But soon after delivering the first baby, Leah’s pulse began dropping, and her condition worsened…
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Leah, please stay with me! Nurse, what’s happening? Look at me, Leah! Look at me,” Thomas cried, his palms wrapped around his sister’s hand.
“Doctor Spellman, you need to leave, please,” Dr. Nichols said, escorting him outside. Then the doors of the OR were slammed shut.
Thomas sank onto one of the chairs in the waiting area, his tears not stopping. He could still smell his sister’s scent on his palms. He buried his face in his hands, hoping it would all be fine soon.
But when a doctor’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he could tell something was not right. “Doctor…how…how’s Leah?” he asked, jumping to his feet.
“We’re sorry, Thomas,” Dr. Nichols said remorsefully. “We tried our best, but we couldn’t stop the bleeding. The children are safe and have been placed in the NICU.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Thomas sank back onto the chair, unable to process the news of his sister’s death. Leah had been so excited to hold her little angels, cradle them, and give them only the best. How could God be so cruel and take her away so soon?
What am I going to do now?” Thomas thought disappointedly when a voice boomed in the hallway. “Where the hell is she?! She thought she could deliver the kids, and I wouldn’t know?”
Thomas’s rage knew no bounds when he saw his sister’s ex-boyfriend, Joe, storming into the hospital. “Where is your sister?” Joe growled.
Thomas grabbed the man’s collar and pinned him to the wall. “Now you’re interested in where she is, huh? Where were you when she spent a night on the streets because of a lowlife like you? And where were you, Joe, when she collapsed four hours ago? She’s dead! My sister…she didn’t even survive to see her kids!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Where are my children? I want to see them!” Joe screamed, yanking away Thomas’s arms.
“Don’t you even dare talk about them, Joe! Get out of my hospital, or I will call security!” Thomas warned him. “OUT!”
“I’m leaving now, but I’m going to get my children back, Thomas! You can’t take them away from me,” Joe shot back as he disappeared away from the hallway.
For the sake of his three little nephews, Thomas decided he couldn’t just sit and mourn his sister’s loss. He was all his nephews had, and he would do anything to ensure the children didn’t grow up under their alcoholic father’s care. So Thomas decided to adopt the triplets, and he fought for their custody in court.
“This is unfair, your honor!” Joe screamed on the witness stand, shedding fake tears. “I am the kids’ father. How would I survive without those little lives? They are Leah’s flesh and blood, MY flesh and blood, and they are all I have now!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Let me get something clear,” the judge told Joe. “You were not married to the children’s mother, Leah, nor did you support her financially while she was pregnant. Is that right?”
“Well, you’re not wrong, your Honor,” Joe sighed, lowering his head. “I work as a handyman and take up small gigs. I couldn’t afford to support her, and that’s the reason why we didn’t get married.”
“Pardon me, your honor, but my client has text messages and voice notes from his sister where she clearly states that Mr. Dawson is a heavy drinker,” said Thomas’s lawyer. “And she refused to marry him unless he entered a rehabilitation program.” The lawyer presented the evidence in court, convincing the judge that Joe was not fit to raise the children, and the court decided in favor of Thomas.
As Thomas walked out of the courtroom, he looked up at the bright skies, remembering his sister. “I had promised you I would do my best to help you. I hope I didn’t disappoint you, Leah,” he whispered with teary eyes.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Right then, Joe stormed out of the court and grabbed Thomas’s arm. “I’m the real father of the children, and I’m going to fight for them, Thomas. Don’t be too proud that you’ve won for now.”
Thomas pulled his arm from Joe’s grasp and glared at him. “That’s exactly why you’re not fit to become their father, Joe! You shouldn’t fight for the children but for the children’s sake!”
When Thomas returned home from the court, satisfied that Leah’s kids were safe with him, he saw his wife packing her bags.
“What’s going on, Susannah?” he asked, bewildered. “What’s with all the packing at this time?”
“I’m sorry, Thomas,” she huffed, zipping the last bag. “I’m not even sure if I want children at all, and here you have three at once. You won the case, didn’t you? Well, I thought it over, but I don’t think I want to spend the next few years of my life changing diapers. I didn’t sign up for this when I married you, Thomas. Sorry.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
And then Susannah was gone. Thomas looked around the house, and he still couldn’t believe he was left all alone to care for his nephews. He pulled out a bottle from the wine rack in frustration, but just as he tossed away the cork, his gaze was drawn to the screensaver on his phone.
His three little nephews were waiting for him. He couldn’t just drown in his sorrows and leave them to their fates.
“I promised Leah I would give them a good life. I can’t do this!” He returned the wine bottle to the rack and walked away.
Time flew by, and the triplets, Jayden, Noah, and Andy, were raised in the love and care of Thomas. Whether it was cleaning the boys’ poopy diapers or lulling them to sleep with his tragically unmelodic voice, Thomas loved each moment he spent with his nephews.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
But their care also took a toll on his physical and mental health, and one day, Thomas collapsed at work. He dismissed it as a lack of sleep and left to pick up his nephews from kindergarten.
But as he arrived home, the sight of the man across from his house sent shivers down his spine. Joe stood there on the sidewalk, in front of Thomas’s house, after five long years.
“Kids, get inside. I’m gonna join you soon, okay?” Thomas smiled as the kids went in.
Then he approached Joe. “What the hell are you doing here?!” he snarled. “Have you been stalking us all along?”
“I’m here to take back what’s mine, Thomas. I’m here for my children!” he admitted brazenly.
“Your children?” Thomas scoffed. “Where were you all those five years when I was raising them? They were never yours, to begin with, Joe. You walked out on them when they weren’t even born, and now you’ve returned to claim them? They’re no longer your children. Get lost!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
“You’re wrong, Thomas,” Joe said confidently. “I worked hard for those five years so I could be financially stable to look after my children. I told you I wouldn’t give up, and it’s time the children went home with their biological father!”
“Oh really?” Thomas challenged him. “I bet the new car you’re driving around will convince the judge otherwise. Don’t waste your time!”
Thomas was confident that Joe wouldn’t be able to take the kids back, but a few months later, he received a court summons. Thomas’s heart dropped as he read it, but he still mustered courage and appeared at the court.
During the hearing, Joe’s lawyer summoned Thomas to the witness stand. “It has recently come to our attention that Dr. Spellman is on a very specific regimen of prescription medications,” Joe’s lawyer said. “After consulting a medical specialist, I’ve come to—”
“Objection, your honor!” Thomas’s lawyer cried, jumping to his feet.
“I will allow it since the guardian’s health directly impacts these proceedings,” the judge said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Thank you, your honor,” Joe’s lawyer continued, turning to face Thomas. “Is it true, Dr. Spellman, that you were diagnosed with a brain tumor, and the doctors can’t guarantee how long you will live? And that this particular combination of medications is used to treat a brain tumor?”
Thomas hung his head as he said, “Yes.” He was indeed diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor months ago and was taking medications to shrink the size and prevent seizures.
After listening to both parties, the judge looked at Thomas with sympathetic eyes and delivered the judgment.
“Considering the new circumstances, the court believes that it would be best for the children to be in the care of their biological father. Dr. Spellman, I wish you strength and good health, but if you truly love these children, you must understand that this is what’s best for them. Hence, I am awarding the custody of the children to their biological father. You have two weeks to prepare them.”
Thomas had seen it all coming the day he received the summons, but he wanted to fight for his nephews and for the sake of his promise to Leah.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
As he packed his nephews’ bags, ready to bid them goodbye, Thomas’s chest felt hollow, as if a heart was no longer beating there. These children had been his reason to live.
“Uncle Thomas, we want to live with you! Please, Uncle Thomas,” the kids insisted.
“Boys,” Thomas said. “If you love Uncle Thomas, you know he would never choose something wrong for you. I want you to be happy, and Joe will keep you happy, boys. Will you please get your things to his car now?”
As the three little boys loaded their bags into Joe’s car, they didn’t even look at him. In fact, they turned around and ran and hugged Doctor Thomas’s leg.
“I love you, Uncle Thomas,” Jayden said in tears. “I…I don’t want to leave you!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“We want to live with you, too!” Noah and Andy cried in unison.
“Hey, hey, guys,” Thomas crouched down to face the kids. “Didn’t we make a solid deal? I will come to see you on weekends, and we’re going to be good to Daddy Joe.”
Thomas wrapped the boys in a tight hug, swallowing his tears. “Now come on; Joe’s waiting,” he said, trying to pull away, but the children held onto him even tighter.
Joe had never liked Thomas. In fact, he would’ve done anything to have his kids back. But at that moment, something in his heart shifted. He looked at Thomas and the boys and couldn’t stop himself from joining them.
“You were right all along, Thomas,” he said, hugging them and shaking his head. “We should not fight for the children but for their sake.” After that, Joe helped Thomas carry the boys’ bags back into the house.
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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who adopted her late best friend’s son despite being a single mother of four kids. But 13 years later, the boy’s birth father showed up on her doorstep to take him away.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers 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.
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