When Cassie returns from a getaway with her husband and son, she walks into her home to see a cryptic message from her mother — telling her to watch a video. As Cassie presses play, her entire life changes. In the end, she’s left wondering which of her parents are worthy of forgiveness.
In my eyes, my father could do no wrong. He was everything I needed him to be and more. He was a businessman who was always traveling, but he ensured that he made enough time for me.
“You’re my little girl, Cassie,” he would say, bopping my nose with his index finger. “You’re the most special.”
A father carrying his daughter | Source: Pexels
My parents always went out of their way for me — ensuring that despite their busy schedules, we would have family dinner almost every night.
It was the one thing that kept me grounded while both of my friends from school were in the middle of their parents’ messy divorces.
“I think it’s trendy now,” I told my mother as she cut slices of banana bread for me after school one day.
Sliced banana bread | Source: Unsplash
“Cas, you cannot think that divorce is trendy,” she laughed. “It’s devastating and traumatic, and very few families actually keep things civil.”
“I’m just saying that it’s trendy because a lot of kids live between two homes,” I explained to her. “It’s one of those things we were talking about in class today.”
I was fourteen, and the world seemed more dramatic than it should have been.
A smiling girl in a hoodie | Source: Pexels
But what I didn’t know was that my words seemed to be an incantation that settled over our home.
A few weeks after that conversation, my father went away on a business trip. A few hours after he had been gone, there was news of his passing.
“How?” I asked. “How did he die?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Cassie,” she replied. “I’m just saying what the paramedics told me.”
Two paramedics standing | Source: Pexels
“So what will we do next?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled by the question.
“For the funeral?” I asked. “Aren’t we going to have one?”
“I don’t think so,” my mother replied. “Dad wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread at the beach. Let’s do that instead.”
A black and white urn | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t fathom why my mother would want to do that — but at the end of the day, she knew my father best. And the longer I thought about it, the more beautiful and sentimental a private ceremony at the beach felt.
“Don’t be difficult, Cassie,” my mother said when she saw me thinking about my next move.
“I’m not,” I said. “Really. I was just thinking about it. It’s a great idea, Mom.”
A pathway to the beach | Source: Unsplash
I could have fought her for a send-off that I thought would have been more appropriate. But what use would it have been? At the end of the day, we had both lost him.
The months following the beach ceremony felt weighted, and I knew that I was becoming deeply depressed — my father had been our world. And his absence was felt more than anything.
But, with time, I learned to live with it.
A girl sitting on the floor and looking out the window | Source: Pexels
Last week, I decided to book a cabin in the woods for a little family vacation. My son was adamant that camping was the new best thing, and I knew that despite the wonders of nature, I wasn’t going to camp in a tent without a bathroom in sight.
Instead, I thought that a cabin would be the best option — my husband, Derek, could camp outside with Drew, our son, if he insisted on it.
A cabin in the woods | Source: Unsplash
We had a dog, therefore, I asked my mother to house-sit for the week so that we could be at peace, knowing that Romeo was taken care of.
A week away was more than enough to restore my mind — and eventually, when we went back home, I was surprised to see that my mother wasn’t there. In fact, it looked like she had never been there.
A dog lying on the grass | Source: Unsplash
But there, on the coffee table, was a note beneath the TV remote.
Watch this, Cassie. I’m sorry. — Mom
I didn’t know what was in store for me, but while Derek got Drew into the bath, I put the TV on and began to watch whatever my mother had planned.
The TV flickered to life, and there he was, my father, his voice a long-lost melody, his image aged but still, unmistakably him.
A person holding a TV remote | Source: Unsplash
Tears streamed down my face as the realization that he was still alive enveloped me in a mix of joy and disbelief.
The video message was nothing short of unpredictable.
My dear Cassie, I’m still here, alive. I’m so sorry for the pain that you must have felt from my loss. But it was needed. I needed to be removed from your life because of the sordid truth of my past. Your mother knows everything, please ask her for the truth.
My health is on a steady decline, and I would love to see you and explain it all.
Love you, Dad.
An old man | Source: Pexels
Without telling Derek or Drew anything, I grabbed the car keys and ran out. I needed my mother to explain.
“So, I bet you’ve got questions for me,” she said, opening the door.
“Explain it all,” I said.
“Cassie, it’s heavy. You look tired from your trip; are you sure you want to do this now?” she asked.
I nodded. It was now or never. I needed to know why my father faked his own death to get out of our lives.
My mother made us some tea and took out some shortbread.
Shortbread cookies on a plate | Source: Unsplash
“Darling,” she said. “I’ll understand if you don’t forgive me, but there’s so much about that time that I need to tell you.”
I sipped my tea, trying to figure out what my mother was about to tell me.
“I remember that you were telling me about your friend’s parents getting divorced. Do you remember that?” she asked.
I nodded. Of course, I did. It was the strangest thing, but it was so common when I was in school.
“Well, your father and I were not legally married. So when I told him about our conversation regarding divorce, he was actually relieved. Without being married, there would be no divorce.”
A marriage certificate | Source: Unsplash
“What’s the big deal?” I asked.
“Then I found out that the real reason that we didn’t get married was because your father was already married to another woman.”
“What?” I exclaimed, almost dropping my cup. “To who?”
“To a woman in the town where he always had his business trips.”
“You didn’t know?” I asked, unable to believe her words.
A couple showing off their wedding rings | Source: Unsplash
“Of course not!” she exclaimed. “But when I pressed him about it, he decided to choose that family over us. So, I told him that the story was going to be his death.”
We were both silent for a moment.
Turns out that my mother told him that she would never tell me the truth, not when he was my favorite person. She couldn’t burst my bubble in that way. And she refused to let him see me one more time.
“It was better for you to think that it was an accident,” my mother said. “It just made more sense.”
Now, I understood why we didn’t have a funeral for him.
“What did we throw into the sea, then?” I asked.
“Dust,” she replied with a straight face.
A cloud of dust | Source: Unsplash
My mother had spoken to him twice over the years. The second time being a day ago.
During their meeting, my father confessed his imminent death due to illness and requested that she give me the recording. My mother, torn by guilt and love, chose to write me the note and have the recording all set for me to watch.
“I would have taken the secret to my grave,” she said. “But knowing that he was ill and wanted to see you just struck something in me.”
A cemetery | Source: Pexels
Compelled by a need to confront the reality of my father’s existence, I traveled to the state where he lived with his other family.
I spent a few weeks with my father — going in and out of hospitals, watching him take an array of different medication, and growing weaker by the day.
Sitting at his bedside, I listened to his stories, the regrets, the moments of joy, and the love he had for all his children — myself included.
When things started to go downhill, I asked Derek to fly over with Drew. It was going to be a fleeting moment, but at least I’d know that my son had met my father.
A sick old man | Source: Pexels
A few days later, my father died.
Even now, I don’t know if I’ve forgiven him for the lie of having a double life. I just know that when it came to it in the end — I wanted to spend time with him. I had shoved my feelings aside, hoping for memories that I could figure out later.
But now that the dust has settled, I’m trying to figure out if I should forgive my mother for lying.
Flowers on a grave | Source: Pexels
What would you do?
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.
My Relatives Thought They Had Robbed Our Rich Blind Grandfather, but He Turned Out to Be Much Smarter
When Ellie’s blind, dying grandfather gathers the greedy family to announce he’s donating his fortune to charity, tension explodes. The open safe tempts everyone, and as relatives enter the room one by one, Ellie suspects foul play. But when it’s her turn, Grandpa reveals a shocking truth.
At 19, I was the black sheep of a family that treated me like I was invisible. After Mom died, Dad married Sharon, who came complete with two daughters and had enough emotional baggage to sink a cruise ship.
A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
The way they looked at me — like I was something they’d scraped off their shoes — made our spacious home feel smaller than a closet.
Their matching designer outfits and perfectly styled hair only emphasized how much I didn’t belong with my thrift store clothes and a messy ponytail.
“Ellie, dear,” Sharon would say, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, “wouldn’t you be more comfortable eating in the kitchen?”
A disapproving woman seated at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
That was her way of saying I embarrassed her in front of her country club friends. Dad would just stare at his plate, suddenly fascinated by his roasted asparagus.
My cousins weren’t any better. All six of them treated family gatherings like networking events, schmoozing with anyone who might boost their social status.
I usually ended up in the kitchen, helping the staff clean up. At least they talked to me like I was human. Maria, our cook, always saved me a piece of her famous chocolate cake.
A decadent chocolate cake | Source: Pexels
“Those people out there?” she’d say, sliding me an extra-large slice. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”
But Grandpa? He was different. He’d worked his way up from nothing to build the family fortune, but being wealthy never changed him. Grandpa was the salt of the earth, through and through.
He was the only one in the family who saw me for who I really was when everyone else looked right through me.
A young woman speaking to her grandfather | Source: Midjourney
Grandpa taught me everything worth knowing, from how to plant the perfect rose garden to how to laugh when life kicks you in the teeth.
While the rest of the family was busy climbing their social ladders, Grandpa and I would sit on his wraparound porch, drinking lemonade and talking about everything and nothing.
“Remember, Ellie,” he’d say when I was having a rough day, “the best revenge is living well. And maybe a little practical joke now and then.”
A young woman sitting on a porch with her grandfather | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t fully understand what he meant until that summer when everything changed.
Grandpa got sick, and his health deteriorated fast. His eyesight failed, and suddenly he was bedridden. The family descended like locusts, their concern was as fake as Sharon’s designer handbags.
I visited him every day, watching as he grew weaker, my heart breaking a little more each time. While the others whispered about his massive wall safe and what might be inside it, I just held his hand and read him his favorite books.
An open book | Source: Pexels
We worked our way through “The Count of Monte Cristo” at his request, which should have been my first clue about what was coming.
“Read that part again,” he’d say, “where Edmund discovers the treasure.”
Now I wonder if he was trying not to laugh.
Then came the day that changed everything.
A worried woman sitting at her grandfather’s bedside | Source: Midjourney
“Family meeting,” Grandpa announced via a voice message, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everyone come to my house. Now.”
The whole family rushed to Grandpa’s house, nearly trampling each other in their hurry to reach his bedside. I hung back, leaning against the wall near the door.
Then I noticed the safe in Grandpa’s bedroom was ajar. Grandpa never left the safe open. I glanced around the room, and my heart sank when I realized I wasn’t the only person who’d noticed.
A young woman frowning | Source: Midjourney
All my relatives were eyeing the dark crack at the door with hungry eyes. Sharon’s daughters, Amber and Crystal, kept nudging each other and pointing at it when they thought no one was looking.
“I’m sad I can’t see any of you anymore,” Grandpa said. “I’d give anything to see your faces again, but it’s too late for that now. The doctor says I don’t have much time left. That’s why I called you all here today. I’ve been putting my affairs in order and I want you all to know that I’ve decided to donate all my money to charity.”
A man wearing dark glasses lying in bed | Source: Midjourney
The silence that followed was deafening. I could practically hear their dreams of inheriting millions shattering like cheap glass. My cousin Bradley actually gasped, then turned and stared at the safe.
Everyone else followed his gaze. It was like they were all thinking the same thing: if they took something, he’d never know.
“Now that’s out of the way, I’d like a chance to speak with each of you privately,” Grandpa continued, adjusting his dark glasses. “Who’s first?”
An elderly man wearing dark glasses speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
What happened next was like watching piranhas in a feeding frenzy. Everyone started talking at once, pushing and shoving, trying to be first in line.
“Enough!” My uncle declared loudly. “I’m the eldest son, and I will go first.”
The look in his eyes silenced everyone.
“Grandpa, wait!” I called out, trying to warn him, but Amber and Crystal shoved me into the hall.
An extremely worried young woman | Source: Midjourney
I watched from the hallway as they went in one by one. Each came out looking smug, like cats who’d gotten into the cream.
My stomach churned. I knew exactly what was happening. The open safe was too tempting, and a blind old man would never know if they helped themselves, right?
I wasn’t allowed to see Grandpa until everyone else had their chance to “say goodbye.” I walked in and sat beside Grandpa’s bed, ignoring the safe completely. It was too late to prevent my relatives from plundering it now.
A young woman sitting at her grandfather’s bedside | Source: Midjourney
“Grandpa,” I whispered, taking his hand. “I’m not ready for you to go.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks as memories flooded back. “Remember when you taught me to fish? I was so scared of hurting the worms, but you showed me how to bait the hook gently. Or all those summer nights on the porch, watching the stars come out? You taught me every constellation.”
“And you remembered them all,” he said softly. “Just like you remembered to water my roses every day while I’ve been stuck in this bed.”
An elderly man in bed speaking weakly | Source: Midjourney
He squeezed my hand. “You’ve always had a good heart, Ellie. And you’ve always been the one person I could trust.”
Then he did something that made my heart stop. He reached up and took off those dark glasses, revealing eyes that were sharp and clear — and looking right at me.
“You’re probably wondering how I saw all this coming,” he said, grinning like a kid with a secret.
“You… you can see?” I stammered, nearly falling out of my chair.
A shocked woman throwing her hands up in the air | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, and I’ve seen everything,” Grandpa replied. “Every greedy glance, every hand sneaking into that safe. They didn’t think an old blind man could catch them, but I did.” Grandpa gestured to the safe. “Let’s see how much is left, Ellie.”
I walked to the safe, my legs wobbly, and opened the door wide. It was empty!
Grandpa laughed.
An elderly man in bed laughing | Source: Midjourney
“I had 10 million dollars in fake bills in there,” Grandpa announced proudly. “And they took every last one. The real money is in a bank vault downtown. And it’s all yours, Ellie.”
I couldn’t speak. My throat felt like I’d swallowed sand.
“You’re the only one I trust to use it wisely,” he continued. “And if you want to leave this toxic mess of a family behind, don’t look back. Heaven knows I’ve wanted to shake their dust off my shoes for years.”
A smiling elderly man pointing at someone | Source: Midjourney
A few days later, Grandpa’s health suddenly started improving with a new treatment. The doctors were shocked, but I wasn’t. You can’t keep a good trickster down.
I bought two plane tickets to Bali the next day. First class because Grandpa insisted we start our new life in style.
The family exploded when they realized what had happened. Sharon threatened to sue. Dad finally found his voice, but only to demand his “fair share.” My cousins showed their true colors with a rainbow of creative curse words.
Two people arguing | Source: Pexels
We left anyway, with nothing but our suitcases and the satisfaction of knowing justice had been served.
Now, I’m writing this from a beach chair in Bali, watching Grandpa teach local kids how to build the perfect sandcastle.
He’s got more energy than all of them combined, and his laugh carries across the sand like music. His recovery seems even more miraculous in the tropical sun.
An elderly man building a sandcastle with some children | Source: Midjourney
“Pass me another coconut drink, would you, Ellie?” he calls out. “Planning the perfect revenge makes a man thirsty!”
I bring him his drink and sit beside him, watching the sunset paint the sky in colors I never saw back home.
“Was it worth it?” I ask. “All that planning, pretending to be blind?”
He takes a sip and grins. “Look around, kiddo. You’re smiling. You’re free. And those vultures back home are probably still arguing about fake money. I’d say that’s worth everything.”
A woman and her grandfather on the beach at sunset | Source: Midjourney
I lean back and close my eyes, feeling the warm breeze on my face. For the first time, I know exactly what he means when he says living well is the best revenge.
And you know what? He was right about the practical jokes too.
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.
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