1. “There’s Something Inside!” Boy Cries After Sitting on Old Sofa Granny Left Him
I sat on the worn-out sofa Granny had left me. The movers had just dropped it off with a dull thud. It was old, faded, and a little torn. I ran my fingers over a dark stain on the cushion, remembering how I spilled juice on it years ago. Granny didn’t mind the stain. She only cared about filling up my cup again when it was empty.
“I’ll miss you, Granny,” I whispered softly.
Dad, Ronny, was standing nearby, his arms crossed. His face was tight, his eyes not even looking at me.
“Why are you so upset over this junk?” he sneered, eyeing the old sofa with disgust.
“This isn’t junk. It’s a memory of her,” I said, trying to hold back the tears. “I can always make money, but I can’t make more memories with Granny.”
Dad scoffed and rolled his eyes. “The same Granny who sent you away to another family after your mom died? She always wanted to take you from me.”
I knew he was right. Granny did ask me to stay with another family after Mom died, but that was because she was worried about me.
“But they’re good people,” I said. “They let me stay here with you for a few days because of Granny’s funeral.”
Dad shrugged, uninterested, and slumped into his armchair. I could tell he didn’t care about what I said.
I sighed and sat back on the sofa, sinking into the soft cushions. But suddenly, something hard poked into my back.
“There’s something inside!” I gasped.
Dad didn’t even look up from his TV show.
Curious, I pulled the cushion away and found a flap of fabric. I lifted it and discovered a small box taped shut with two words scribbled on it.
For Kevin.
I recognized Granny’s handwriting immediately. My heart pounded as I carefully opened the box. Inside was an envelope and a bundle of papers. I unfolded the letter, my hands trembling.
Dearest Kevin,
I’m sorry to pressure you while you’re still so young, but your well-being and future depend on you making a smart choice now. You need to know that your father has his eyes on his share of my inheritance. I’ll explain everything and then you must decide if he’s worthy of your love.
I looked at Dad. His back was turned to me as he stared at the TV, not noticing a thing.
A Few Months Ago…
It was a regular day when I came home from school and saw Granny standing at the door of our cluttered apartment, arguing with Dad.
“I send you money every month for his soccer club!” Granny shouted. “What have you been doing with it?”
Dad had a sharp reply, but whatever he said made Granny even angrier. She was really worried about me, and a few weeks later, she told me I was going to stay with Denise, the nurse who had worked with Granny for years.
“Denise and Miguel will take good care of you,” Granny said, smiling. “You’ll still see your dad, but you need a safer home.”
I didn’t mind the idea. Denise and Miguel were kind and took me to a soccer club. It felt good. But then, Granny’s health got worse, and I never expected she’d be gone so soon.
Back to the Present…
I read Granny’s letter again:
…So, I devised a way for you to uncover your father’s true character.
The legal papers in this box will allow Ronny to inherit all of my money, but only on one condition: he must stay away from you. Give them to him and see what happens.
If he destroys the papers, you’ll know that he values you more than money. But if he takes them to a lawyer, then you will have a safe and loving home with Denise and Miguel.
I folded the letter and stared at Dad, who was completely absorbed in his show.
Should I really test him? I thought.
I picked up the papers, took a deep breath, and walked over to Dad.
“Dad,” I said, my voice shaking. “I found something in Granny’s old sofa. I think it’s for you.”
He didn’t even look at me as he snatched the papers from my hand. His eyes lit up, and without a second thought, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” I asked, following him.
“Out. Grown-up stuff. Stay here,” he mumbled, walking quickly down the street.
I followed him, heart racing, until he walked into a big building with a sign that read, “Lawyer’s Office.”
It hit me like a punch to the gut. Granny had been right. Dad cared more about money than me.
I walked back to our apartment and knocked on our neighbor Tina’s door. It wasn’t long before she answered.
“Hi, Tina,” I said, trying to stay calm. “Can I use your phone?”
An hour later, Denise and Miguel showed up to pick me up. And that was the moment I knew my life was about to change.
It’s been three years since then, and Denise and Miguel have been more loving and supportive than I could ever imagine. I feel lucky to have a grandmother like Granny who wanted only the best for me.
2. I Inherited Grandma’s Old Clocks & My Greedy Brother Got the House
I loved my grandma, Marlene, more than anything. For most of my childhood, I lived with her in her cozy house filled with her collection of old clocks. Each clock had a story, and Grandma would tell me about each one. She was my safe place, my biggest fan.
But last year, I had to move away for college.
One evening, I got a call from her. Her voice was weak and shaky.
“Linda, sweetheart, could you come over? I don’t think I have much time left,” she whispered.
My heart dropped. “Oh, Granny, don’t talk like that! I’ll come as soon as I can. Don’t worry.”
I rushed to her house three days later. When I arrived, my brother Brian was already there. He was a few years older than me, and his personality was as sharp as a knife.
As soon as I walked in, I rushed to hug Grandma. “I’m here, Grandma,” I whispered, feeling my heart ache.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” she smiled, her tired face lighting up for a moment.
Meanwhile, Brian stood by the door, frowning. “At least you could have cleaned up a little, Grandma. It’s so dusty in here,” he muttered, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off his jacket.
I couldn’t believe him! Grandma needed comfort, not criticism.
I rolled my eyes and ignored him, focusing on Grandma instead. She didn’t deserve any more stress.
A few minutes later, she called us both into the living room and handed us each an envelope.
Inside was $5,000.
“Linda, Brian, I wanted to give you both something,” she said, her voice shaking slightly.
I held her hand tightly. “Granny, you didn’t have to do this. I’m here to be with you, not for the money.”
Brian, on the other hand, scowled. “Is this it? Seriously? $5,000?”
Before Grandma could respond, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
He’s unbelievable, I thought, but I stayed by her side. Over the next few days, I worked hard to clean her house, fix broken things, and cook fresh meals. Grandma had been living with old, stale food, and the house had cracks and leaks that hadn’t been repaired in years.
“You don’t have to do all this, Linda. I don’t want to take up all your time,” she said, her voice full of concern as I patched up a leak.
I smiled and squeezed her hand. “Granny, I know how much you wanted this house to feel like home again. I had some savings, so I thought, why not? Does it feel like how you remember it with Grandpa?”
“Oh, Linda,” she smiled through tears. “Yes, it’s perfect. Thank you.”
Then, one quiet morning, I found her peacefully gone in her sleep. The house felt empty without her.
Brian didn’t even come to the funeral, which hurt me more than I can say, but I tried my best to focus on honoring her memory.
Two weeks later, we were called to the lawyer’s office for the reading of her will. Brian and I sat in silence as the lawyer began.
“Brian,” the lawyer said, “you have been left the house.”
Brian grinned, clearly pleased. He had always wanted the house.
Then the lawyer turned to me, his face softening. “Linda, your grandmother left you her clocks.”
“The… clocks?” I said, feeling a little deflated.
The lawyer handed me five old, rusty clocks, each one covered in a layer of dust. Brian snickered as he glanced at them.
But then, the lawyer handed me an envelope.
“Your grandmother loved you more than anyone, Linda,” he said gently.
Curious, I opened the envelope. Inside, there was a letter in Grandma’s handwriting:
Linda, never underestimate these rusty old clocks!
They are 100-year-old timepieces that belonged to your grandfather. Each one is made of rare, beautiful metal and worth about $40,000! Everyone gets what they deserve, my dear. I’m so glad you got the best.
With all my love, Granny Marlene.
My heart raced as I read her words. The lawyer smiled. “These clocks are worth nearly $200,000.”
I looked at the clocks, tears blurring my vision. Brian stood up, his face pale.
“What? Those things are worth that much?” he stammered.
I smiled through my tears. “Yes, Brian. Grandma knew exactly what she was doing.”
I hugged one of the clocks close to my chest, feeling its rhythm match my heartbeat. It was like Grandma was still there with me.
Thank you, Grandma, I thought as I left the lawyer’s office, her clocks in my arms. Thank you for giving me a piece of your heart to carry forever.
3. Granddad’s Old Mattress Holds a Shocking Secret: A Girl’s Quest for Justice
When my grandfather passed away, it felt like I lost the last piece of my family. All he left me was an old, creaky house. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had left. I had grown up here after my parents died in a car accident when I was just four. Grandpa had always been my rock. He was my dad, my mom, my best friend. He understood me like no one else, and I loved him more than words could say.
The house felt empty now, too quiet. I wandered through it, looking at old furniture and faded photos, remembering the good times we had. As I passed by the old bedroom, something made me stop. It was Grandpa’s mattress. I had always wondered why he never let anyone touch it.
“Don’t you dare, young lady,” he’d always say with a mischievous grin. “It’s got secrets.”
What secrets? I thought, feeling my curiosity grow stronger. Grandpa had always been so mysterious about that mattress. What could he have been hiding all these years?
I couldn’t resist any longer. My hands shook as I lifted the heavy mattress, and there, under it, was an old envelope, a leather-bound diary, a stack of photographs, and some yellowed newspaper clippings.
My heart pounded in my chest as I carefully opened the envelope. Inside was a letter, and below that, Grandpa’s handwriting filled the pages of the diary. I started reading, my eyes scanning the words frantically. The first line of the diary made my blood run cold.
“I can’t let Brooke live her life not knowing the truth about her parents.”
I froze, my breath caught in my throat. What truth? I flipped through the diary, reading faster and faster. Grandpa had been investigating my parents’ deaths, and what he found was beyond anything I could have imagined. He believed their deaths were no accident.
The notes in the diary pointed to something horrible—a cover-up involving a drunk driver named Mr. Johnson and a corrupt police officer, Officer Parker, who had let him go free.
“Oh my God!” I whispered, my voice shaking.
Tears filled my eyes as I realized the truth. Grandpa had spent years uncovering the secret of my parents’ deaths, and now, it was up to me to finish what he had started.
The next morning, I gathered the evidence and walked into the local newspaper office, my hands trembling. The editor, Frank, barely looked up as I stepped inside.
“We hear all kinds of wild stories,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m sure you’ve got something like the rest of them.”
“This is different,” I shot back, spreading the photos and clippings across his desk. “This is about my parents’ deaths and a cover-up involving the police. Are you ready for the truth?”
Frank raised an eyebrow, his dismissive attitude quickly shifting to curiosity. He leaned in, carefully studying the evidence I had laid out in front of him.
“This… this is explosive,” he said quietly, his voice laced with disbelief. “But are you sure you’re ready for what this will bring? People will come after you.”
“I’ve spent my whole life wondering why my parents died,” I replied firmly. “Now that I know, I’m not stopping until I expose the truth.”
When the story hit the front page, the town erupted. Protests flooded the streets, with people gathering outside the police station and even outside Mr. Johnson’s mansion. The case was reopened, and Officer Parker, under pressure, finally confessed.
“We were pressured by the Johnson family,” Officer Parker said, his voice shaking. “They wanted it buried.”
Months later, the trial became a media circus. I testified, my voice trembling, but with a fire inside me. I spoke about my parents, about the injustice they had faced, and about the man who tried to cover it all up.
When the jury came back with their verdict, the weight that had been on my shoulders for so long finally lifted. Justice had been served. My parents’ names were cleared. It felt like a dream come true.
A few days later, I visited Grandpa’s grave. I stood in front of it, feeling a mix of sadness and relief.
“We did it, Grandpa,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Thank you for never giving up. Thank you for everything you did.”
As I stood there, a small smile crept onto my face. Grandpa had always believed in me, and now, because of him, I could finally have the peace I had always longed for.
