My grandmother faked being deaf to see how we would act before splitting the inheritance — in the end, everyone received what they deserved

I nodded eagerly, ignoring the eye rolls from my uncle across the room. He never understood why I bothered with the “old lady”.

“You’re wasting your summer, Em,” my Uncle Bill muttered. “Why don’t you come to the beach with us instead?”

I shot him a glare. “Because I actually care about my Grandma, Uncle Bill. You should try it sometime.”

As Grandma and I pruned the roses together, I couldn’t help but notice how her hands shook slightly. She was getting older, and it scared me.

“Grandma,” I gently said. “You know I love you, right?”

She paused, looking at me with those kind eyes. “Of course, sweetheart. And I love you too. More than you could ever know.”

As we headed inside, I hugged her tightly, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and home-baked cookies clinging to her dress. Little did I know, this moment of peace was the calm before the storm.

“Emily,” Grandma said, her voice suddenly serious. “Promise me something. No matter what happens, always stay true to yourself.”

I pulled back, confused. “Of course, Grandma. But why are you saying this?”

She just smiled, that familiar twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand someday, my dear. Now, how about we bake some cookies?”

A week before Grandma’s 89th birthday, everything changed. Dad came home, his face ashen.

“Emily,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Grandma’s in the hospital. The doctors… they said she’s lost her hearing.”

My world shattered. How could this happen? Just yesterday, we were laughing over her childhood stories.

“But… but she was fine!” I protested, tears welling up in my eyes. “We were gardening and baking and…”

Dad pulled me into a hug. “I know, sweetheart. It happened suddenly. The doctors said it’s not uncommon at her age.”

Despite the diagnosis, we decided to throw Grandma a birthday party anyway. She deserved it, deaf or not.

“We’ll make it special,” Mom said, her voice brimming with love and determination. “Emily, why don’t you make a photo album? I’m sure Grandma would love that.”

I smiled, wiping away my tears as I helped Mom set the table for dinner. “Yeah, I’ll do that. She always loved looking at old pictures.”

Fast forward to Grandma’s 89th birthday celebration, the party was in full swing, but something felt off. I sat next to Grandma, showing her pictures on my phone, when I overheard my Uncle Bill’s booming voice.

“If the house doesn’t get to us, I’m gonna fight for it in court. Don’t you understand that she’s already old and stupid?” he hissed, looking unkindly at Grandma.

I froze, my blood running cold. How could he say that about Grandma?

Aunt Sarah chimed in, her voice dripping with disdain. “Oh yeah, brother! Her words can’t be trusted. I can’t really wait to get that lovely farmhouse she owns in Boston.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. These were the same people who’d smiled and hugged Grandma just moments ago.

“Hey!” I shouted, my face burning with anger. “How can you talk about Grandma like that?”

Uncle Bill sneered at me. “Zip it up, you silly little girl. This is grown-up talk.”

I looked at Grandma, expecting to see hurt in her eyes. But instead, I saw… a glimmer of something else. Was it… amusement?

I shook my head, dismissing the thought. The poor thing couldn’t hear them, and in a way, I was glad. Their cruel words would have broken her heart.

“You okay, Grandma?” I asked, forgetting for a moment that she couldn’t hear me.

She patted my hand and smiled.

Later that night, after everyone had gone home, I found Grandma sitting in her favorite armchair, staring out the window.

“Grandma?” I said softly, approaching her.

To my surprise, she turned to look at me. “Emily, dear. Come sit with me.”

I froze. “Grandma? You… you can hear me?”

She chuckled, that familiar twinkle in her eye. “Sweetie, I know everything. Who said I was completely deaf? I can hear faintly.”

My jaw dropped. “But… but at the party… Uncle Bill and Aunt Sarah…”

“I know what they said,” she sighed. “And I know they’re all waiting for me to die.”

I hugged her tightly, tears streaming down my face. “I’m so sorry, Grandma. They’re horrible!”

She wiped my tears away. “Don’t cry, my dear. We’re going to teach them a lesson they’ll never forget.”

Over the next few days, Grandma and I plotted our plan. I bought some small recorders, and we set about capturing the true nature of our relatives.

“Remember, Emily,” Grandma said as we worked. “This isn’t about revenge. It’s about revealing the truth.”

I nodded, though part of me couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction at the thought of exposing their true colors.

As we captured more and more of my aunts’ and uncles’ cruel words, my heart shattered into a million pieces. Their voices, dripping with greed and mockery, filled the tiny recorders:

“I can’t wait for the old bat to kick the bucket already.”

“Maybe we should help her along, you know? It’s for her own good.”

“God, why won’t she just die already? I’ve got plans for that beach house.”

Each word was like a knife twisting in my gut.

I looked at Grandma, her weathered hands trembling slightly as she listened. Her eyes, once so bright and full of life, now glistened with unshed tears.

“How can they be so heartless?” I whispered. “Grandma, these are your children. How can they say such awful things?”

Grandma reached out and squeezed my hand, her touch as gentle as ever. “Oh, my sweet Emily,” she murmured, her voice quavering. “Sometimes, the people who should love us the most are the ones who hurt us the deepest.”

Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. How could they do this to the woman who had loved them, raised them, and given them everything? Now they were circling like vultures, eagerly awaiting her death.

“Doesn’t it hurt you, Grandma?” I asked her.

She smiled sadly. “Of course it does, dear. But it also shows me who truly cares. And that’s worth more than any wealth. Remember… love is the greatest inheritance.”

A week later, Grandma passed away peacefully in her sleep. I was devastated. The funeral was a somber affair, with relatives shedding crocodile tears while eyeing Grandma’s possessions.

“Such a tragedy,” Aunt Sarah sniffled, her eyes darting around the room. “I’ll miss her so much.”

I bit my tongue, knowing what was coming.

Three days after the funeral, we all gathered at the lawyer’s office for the reading of the will.

Mr. Thompson, our family lawyer, cleared his throat. “Before we begin, I have a special request from Mrs. Rosalind.”

He placed seven small boxes and envelopes on the table, each labeled with a name. Everyone except me had one.

“Emily,” Mr. Thompson said, “your grandmother left something different for you.”

My heart raced as I watched my relatives tear into their boxes. Each one contained a small recorder.

Uncle Bill pressed play first. His own voice filled the room: “I can’t wait for the old bat to kick the bucket already.”

Aunt Sarah’s recorder was next: “God, why won’t she just die already? I’ve got plans for that beach house.”

One by one, each recorder played back the nasty things they’d said about Grandma. The color drained from their faces as they realized the truth.

Oh, you petty things! Grandma hadn’t been deaf at all.

“YOU!” Uncle Bill pointed at me, his face red with anger. “You did this!”

I stood my ground. “No, Uncle Bill. You did this to yourself. All of you did.”

As the last recording finished, I couldn’t help but smile. Grandma had outsmarted them all.

“Emily,” Mr. Thompson said, handing me an envelope. “This is for you.”

With shaking hands, I opened it. Inside was a letter in Grandma’s elegant handwriting:

“My dearest Emily,

You were the only one who saw me for who I was, not what I had. Your love was pure and unconditional. That’s why I’m leaving everything to you. Use it wisely, and always remember: love is the greatest inheritance of all.

Love,

Grandma”

Tears streamed down my face as I clutched the letter to my chest. I realized that Grandma had given me something far more valuable than money or property. She’d taught me the true meaning of love and family.

As for my relatives? They each received an envelope containing a single dollar and a note that read: “Hope this would be enough! Good luck!”

The aftermath was chaotic. Uncle Bill threatened to contest the will, but Mr. Thompson shut him down quickly.

“Mrs. Rosalind was of sound mind when she made this will,” he said firmly. “And given the evidence we’ve just heard, I’d say her decisions were well-founded.”

As we left the office, my Dad pulled me aside. “Emily, I’m so proud of you. And I’m sorry I didn’t see what was happening sooner.”

I hugged him tight. “It’s okay, Dad. Grandma knew you loved her. That’s what matters.”

It’s been ten years since that day, and I still miss my Grandma terribly. But her final lesson stays with me: love your family unconditionally, because nothing in this world is permanent. Not money, not property. Just love.

And remember, sometimes the quietest voices have the most to say. Listen closely… you never know what you might learn.

Rich Man Met an 8-Year-Old Boy in the Town Square on Christmas Eve — ‘Can You Help Me Find My Family?’ the Boy Asked

On Christmas Eve, a wealthy but lonely Dennis stumbles upon a lost eight-year-old boy in the town square. Haunted by memories of his own childhood, Dennis soon finds his life changing in ways he never expected.

The square was alive with lights and laughter. Kids zipped around on skates, their cheeks red from the cold. Couples walked hand in hand, leaning close, bundled up, and smiling. A small group of carolers sang on the corner near the big tree, voices warm even in the chilly air.

A snowy street on Christmas | Source: Pexels

A snowy street on Christmas | Source: Pexels

I took it all in, trying to feel… something. You’d think a successful guy like me, an orphan who grew up to be a businessman, wouldn’t feel out of place here.

But here I was, alone, like every other holiday season. I’d had a few relationships over the years, but my partners saw dollar signs, not me.

A sad man outside on a snowy day | Source: Midjourney

A sad man outside on a snowy day | Source: Midjourney

Suddenly, I felt someone collide with me, and I turned to see a young woman sprawled on the ground, looking up at me with a grin. Her laughter was contagious, and for a split second, I couldn’t help but smile back. She was beautiful, bright-eyed, with a spark that caught me off guard.

“Oops,” she laughed, still sitting there. “Sorry! Guess I’m not as good on skates as I thought.”

A woman on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney

A woman on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney

“It’s alright,” I said, offering a hand to help her up. “You sure you’re okay?”

But just as quickly, a tall guy came over, scowling as he pulled her away from me. “Hey, buddy, what’s the deal here? Hitting on my girl?”

“No, I wasn’t,” I said quickly, backing off, with my hands up. “Just helping her up, that’s all.”

An aggressive man on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney

An aggressive man on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah, well, don’t,” he muttered, shooting me a glare as he led her away. She looked back once, mouthing a quick “Sorry,” and then they were gone, swallowed by the crowd.

I stood there for a moment, shaking my head. “So much for miracles,” I muttered. I turned to leave, ready to head home.

An upset man on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney

An upset man on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney

Then I felt a small tug on my coat. I turned around, half-expecting that girl again, but instead, I found myself looking down at a boy. He couldn’t have been more than eight, with wide brown eyes and a nervous look on his face. He clutched a small keychain, his hand trembling.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said, voice soft and polite. “I… I need some help. I can’t find my family. Haven’t seen them in days.”

A sad boy next to a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

A sad boy next to a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney

The words hit me like a blast of cold air. “You… you lost your family?” I asked, lowering myself to his eye level. “When did you last see them?”

The boy looked down, shuffling his feet. “I’m not sure. I been lookin’ for a while, though. But… but please, sir, don’t call the police.”

“Not the police?” I asked, puzzled. “But if you’ve been lost for days—”

A serious man talking to a boy | Source: Midjourney

A serious man talking to a boy | Source: Midjourney

He shook his head vigorously. “No, no police. I heard people sayin’ that sometimes, when parents don’t have much money, the police take kids away. And… and my family doesn’t have much. They’re poor. I’m afraid they’ll… well, they’ll take me away, too.”

I looked at him, feeling a pang of something I hadn’t felt in years. I knew what it was like to be a kid worried about getting taken away.

A sad boy in an orphanage | Source: Midjourney

A sad boy in an orphanage | Source: Midjourney

“Alright,” I said gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “No police, I promise. We’ll just… we’ll figure this out. Okay?”

He nodded, relief flashing across his face. “Thank you, sir. I didn’t know who else to ask.”

“Call me Dennis,” I said. “And what’s your name?”

A smiling man talking to a young boy | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man talking to a young boy | Source: Midjourney

“Ben,” he replied, clutching his keychain a little tighter.

“Alright, Ben,” I said. “Let’s get you home. Do you know where you live?”

He nodded. “It’s a little ways from here. I can show you. I think I remember.”

A sad blue-eyed boy | Source: Midjourney

A sad blue-eyed boy | Source: Midjourney

I called my driver, and we waited in the cold as he pulled up to the curb. Ben climbed in first, tucking himself into the back seat. I followed, shutting the door and glancing over at him. “So,” I said, trying to make conversation, “what kind of keychain is that? Looks pretty special.”

He looked down, fingers wrapped around the tiny silver heart on his keychain. “It’s… well, it’s just a keychain they give you at this place I stayed at once.”

A small silver keychain | Source: Midjourney

A small silver keychain | Source: Midjourney

I looked at it more closely, realizing that it looked familiar. Very familiar.

“So, you like Christmas?” I asked instead.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” he mumbled, still looking out the window.

When we reached the address he’d given, I got out and walked with him up to the front door. He knocked once, then again. Silence.

A sad boy near a door | Source: Midjourney

A sad boy near a door | Source: Midjourney

“Maybe they went to my grandparents’ place,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced.

I glanced back at the square, its lights twinkling in the distance. “Alright, Ben,” I said, kneeling down to his level. “Maybe we’ll give it some time. How about we head back to the square and enjoy a few things while we wait? Have you ever been skating?”

A smiling man looking down | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man looking down | Source: Midjourney

He looked at me, his eyes lighting up. “I haven’t! Can we?”

I stood up, smiling. “Sure. Why not?”

As we headed back to the square, Ben’s face lit up with excitement. The whole place was glowing, with lights strung up on every tree and children darting around. I hadn’t done much for the holidays in a long time, but tonight felt different.

Christmas fair | Source: Pexels

Christmas fair | Source: Pexels

“So, skating first?” I asked, nodding toward the rink.

Ben’s eyes went wide. “Really? Can I?”

“Absolutely. Let’s get some skates.”

A boy on a skating rink | Source: Freepik

A boy on a skating rink | Source: Freepik

Minutes later, we were on the ice. Ben took off, shaky at first, his little arms flailing. I was no expert, but I managed to stay upright. We slipped, stumbled, and laughed. I felt lighter than I had in years.

“Look, Dennis! I got it!” he shouted, gliding a little more steadily, a grin stretched across his face.

A man smiling after he fell on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling after he fell on a skating rink | Source: Midjourney

“You’re a pro already,” I laughed, half-joking. “I’m gonna need lessons from you!”

After skating, we tried one of the carnival games—throwing rings onto bottles. He didn’t win, but he nearly knocked over the whole stand with how excited he was.

“Can we get hot chocolate?” he asked, eyeing the stand nearby.

Hot chocolate | Source: Pexels

Hot chocolate | Source: Pexels

“Of course,” I said. We got our steaming cups, finding a bench to sit and watch the crowd. As he sipped, Ben looked so content. His cheeks were flushed, and there was a peace in his expression that felt like a gift.

I looked at him, a warmth growing in my chest that I hadn’t felt in years. I’d only known this boy for a few hours, yet I felt connected to him. And I didn’t want the night to end.

A happy boy holding hot chocolate | Source: Midjourney

A happy boy holding hot chocolate | Source: Midjourney

But eventually, I cleared my throat. “Ben, maybe… maybe it’s time to head back to the shelter.”

He looked up, surprised, and for a moment, his face fell. “How did you know?”

I smiled gently, pointing at his keychain. “I recognized that keychain the second I saw it. They gave out the same ones when I stayed there.”

A man talking to a boy on a Christmas fair | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to a boy on a Christmas fair | Source: Midjourney

His eyes widened. “You… you were at the shelter?”

I nodded. “A long time ago. I was around your age. So, I understand. I get what it feels like to want a family, even just for a night.”

Ben’s eyes dropped to the ground, and he nodded slowly. “I just… I wanted to feel like I had a family, you know? Just for Christmas.”

An upset boy | Source: Freepik

An upset boy | Source: Freepik

“Yeah,” I said softly. “I know. And I’m really glad I got to spend Christmas Eve with you, Ben.”

He looked up, and I saw the gratitude in his eyes. “Me too, Dennis.”

We walked back to the shelter in silence, the warmth of the evening settling between us. When we arrived, a familiar face was waiting outside. It was her, the young woman who’d bumped into me earlier. Her eyes widened with relief as she spotted us.

A concerned woman sitting on a street | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman sitting on a street | Source: Midjourney

“There you are!” she exclaimed, rushing over to Ben and hugging him tightly. “We were so worried about you. We should notify the police you’re back.”

Ben squeezed her hand, mumbling, “I was okay. Dennis helped me.”

The woman looked up at me, her expression softening. “Thank you so much for bringing him back.” She let out a breath, then added with a tired smile, “I’m Sarah. I volunteer here. We’ve been searching for him since this afternoon.”

A smiling man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

“Nice to meet you, Sarah,” I said, realizing this must be more than a chance meeting. We stood there for a moment, caught in a quiet, shared relief. She looked exhausted, her face a mix of worry and something else—hurt, maybe.

I hesitated, then asked, “Rough night?”

A man talking to a woman on a Christmas fair | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to a woman on a Christmas fair | Source: Midjourney

She nodded, looking away. “I found out my boyfriend… well, he was cheating on me. Tonight, of all nights.” She laughed sadly, brushing a tear away. “But I guess that’s how it goes.”

On impulse, I blurted, “Well… would you maybe like to get a coffee?”

She looked down at Ben, then back at me. “Actually… I’d love that.”

A smiling woman outside | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman outside | Source: Midjourney

Over the next few months, I found myself at the shelter often. Sarah and I would meet there, talking for hours and helping out together.

The more time we spent, the closer we grew, both to each other and to Ben. He seemed to shine whenever we were all together, and soon the shelter felt like the home I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.

A happy family on a walk | Source: Midjourney

A happy family on a walk | Source: Midjourney

By the time the next Christmas rolled around, everything had changed. Sarah and I were now married, and Ben had officially become our son. That Christmas Eve, we went back to the square, the three of us hand in hand, surrounded by laughter and lights.

We watched the skaters, sipped our hot cocoa, and felt at peace as our own little family, a miracle in the making.

A happy family together | Source: Midjourney

A happy family together | Source: Midjourney

Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: When Sutton is on a business trip, the last thing she expects to discover is that her husband is having an affair, resulting in a pregnancy. But after Jacob moves out, and the months go by, Sutton plans her revenge.

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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