Ryan gets suspicious when his dog races into the church and starts barking at his father’s coffin. Seeing the dog in an alert position, Ryan opens the casket, only to find his father’s body missing.
Ryan climbed out of the car and stood outside the church, knowing he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to his father. “We couldn’t even give Dad a proper funeral,” he thought. Suddenly, Bella’s sharp bark distracted him.
Ryan turned to his car, where Bella was more agitated than usual.
“Bella!” He gave her a hand signal to lie down, and she obeyed. He patted her head through the open car window. “Now, stay, Bella.”
Ryan then walked away, ignoring Bella’s whine, and entered the church. His father Arnold’s casket was already in place, closed, and the funeral director had discretely cordoned off the immediate area because Arnold had died of an infectious disease.
Ryan sat beside his mother. Arnold would be cremated, not buried, given the circumstances of his death.
Just as the mass ended and mourners rose to sing the final hymn, Bella’s bark echoed through the church. She jumped on the casket, knocking the flower arrangement to the floor, and began barking loudly.
When Bella sat in her alert position on the floor and stared at him, Ryan sensed something was off.
“Open the casket!” he demanded.
A gasp rang out in the gathering. Ryan didn’t care. He walked over to the casket and opened it, only to find it empty.
“Wh-Where’s my brother?” His uncle stared at the funeral director.
Ryan’s mother couldn’t stand what was happening. Her eyes rolled back in her skull, and her knees gave way. Ryan caught her just in time before her head hit the marble floor. He rushed her to the hospital.
At his mother’s house, Ryan called the police.
“At this point, all we know is that the coroner confirmed the cause of death and released the remains to the funeral home,” Detective Bradshaw told him. “Was your father involved in any activities I should be aware of?”
Ryan hadn’t been involved in his father’s business since he opened his dog training and rehabilitation center. But he knew Arnold would never put his or the company’s reputation at stake.
Since there was no vital lead yet, Detective Bradshaw left, promising to be in touch with updates. But Ryan didn’t want to wait. The hospital was keeping his mom overnight. He left Bella at home and went to the morgue to find answers.
“The coroner resigned? What about the new coroner?” Ryan was baffled when the nurse at the reception informed him there was no new coroner yet. He asked to see his father’s file, but the nurse refused, saying it was against policies.
Ryan knew how to convince her. He set $1000 on the counter, and she turned a blind eye when he slipped inside the coroner’s office. He started searching the shelves for his father’s file, but it was futile. Arnold’s file was missing.
Ryan was frustrated. Suddenly, his buzzing phone distracted him. It was his father’s lawyer, Mr. Stevens. The older man informed Ryan that he was the new CEO of Arnold’s company and wanted to see him urgently.
As Ryan arrived at his father’s office, he opened Arnold’s Gmail on the office computer, only to find the inbox empty. Someone had deleted the messages.
“Ryan! Good to see you,” Mr. Stevens entered the room and shut the door behind him.
“Who’s been using this computer?” Ryan asked him.
“Nobody,” Mr. Stevens replied.
“Wait, where are the dancers?” Ryan noticed two figurines were missing from his father’s office.
“Oh, he took them home. Poor Arnold…he could never get the third figurine in the set. Can you believe the man who owns it won’t accept anything less than half a million?” Mr. Stevens said.
Ryan was sure Arnold hadn’t taken them home. He’d been all through his parents’ house since he arrived for the funeral, and he hadn’t seen those dancers anywhere.
“But anyway, we have more important matters to discuss…” Mr. Stevens informed Ryan that they were in severe debt, and several investors were threatening to pull their investments because Arnold had been missing meetings with them for months before his death.
“…and it all started when his new secretary began working here. With all due respect to Arnold and his family, I believe he was having a romantic relationship with her,” Mr. Stevens revealed.
Ryan lost his cool as the thought of his mother’s sad face crossed his mind. He would’ve confronted his father’s secretary if Mr. Stevens hadn’t stopped him—It would only tarnish Arnold’s reputation.
Ryan spent the day sorting out the debt problem and sent gift baskets to the most vital investors. After work, he followed his father’s secretary, Miss Pearson, and saw her pull into the garage of a modest suburban home. She was his only lead until now, so he waited outside her house in his car.
Sometime later, the whirring noise of her garage door awoke him. He saw her head in the direction of the city in her car and wanted to follow her. But then he had a better idea. He leaped from his car and managed to get inside her garage just in time before the door closed. There, he found a doorway leading into her house.
He found the kitchen first, searched the drawers, and found a flashlight. He didn’t want to turn on the lights in case Miss Pearson came home suddenly. His heart sank when he entered her bedroom and saw a framed photo of her kissing Arnold on the nightstand.
Ryan maintained his composure, reminding himself he was here to find a lead that would help him figure out what happened to his father. He searched Miss Pearson’s house but couldn’t find anything. Dejected, he was about to leave when he noticed a slightly open drawer in the coffee table.
A Manila envelope there interested him. Inside it was Arnold’s life insurance policy for $7 million, and the sole beneficiary was…Miss Pearson! Ryan took the document and drove to the police station.
“This is quite compelling…” Detective Bradshaw said, looking at the document. “Let me see what else I can find out about this Pearson woman.”
Ryan was seated near the front desk when she approached him with a team of officers. Turned out Miss Pearson was booked on a flight to Morocco, which would leave in half an hour.
“Since the US has no extradition treaty with the Moroccan government, it’s vital we bring her in for questioning before she boards the plane!”
Ryan wanted to accompany the officers, but Detective Bradshaw refused because he was a civilian. Ryan didn’t listen to her and followed her.
“Police!” Detective Bradshaw yelled as she and her team approached a boarding gate. “Let us through!”
Ryan slipped past the airport security officers by blending with the group, and they proceeded to the boarding area. The cops immediately spread out and started checking the passengers.
“You there! The dark-haired woman in the white shirt! Step out of the line and raise your hands in the air,” Detective Bradshaw yelled.
Ryan was relieved they’d caught Miss Pearson, but his smile faded when the woman turned around. She was not Miss Pearson. The cops continued the search for hours, but Miss Pearson was gone.
Ryan was back to square one. But somewhere in his heart, he knew Arnold was alive. Ryan knew the figurines weren’t at his mother’s house. Wherever his father was, he must’ve taken the figurines with him. Ryan looked up the collector who had the third figurine online and visited him.
“So…how much will you take for it?” he asked, pointing to the figurine.
“$750,000,” the collector, Mr. Frederick, replied.
“That’s far above the market value for the artist’s work, sir.”
“Then don’t buy it. The price is non-negotiable, young man!”
Ryan had to have it, so he requested time to arrange the money. He returned to his car, dialed Mr. Stevens, and said he wanted to sell $750,000 worth of his shares in the company.
“But then you won’t have a controlling stake in the company, Ryan!” Mr. Stevens said.
“I’m aware, Mr. Stevens, but this is urgent,” Ryan explained. “I need the cash immediately, but if I’m right, I should be able to buy back those shares within the week.”
“Ryan,” Mr. Stevens eventually replied in a measured tone, “as a major stakeholder and legal advisor for the company, I get the feeling it would behoove me not to ask questions about why you need such a large amount of money at such short notice.”
“As a longtime family friend, however,” Mr. Stevens continued, “I must know if this is related to the suspicion I shared with you about Miss Pearson.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Ryan replied.
Mr. Stevens sighed. “She’s also disappeared, you know…didn’t turn up for work today, and her phone number no longer exists. I’ll get you the money…best you not ask me the details…and wire it to you ASAP.”
When Ryan received the message that the money was in his account, he rushed inside to speak to Mr. Frederick. The older man muttered something about how the figurine was worth more than his asking price since it was the only available piece of the set, but Ryan cut him off.
“You asked for $750 000, sir, and that’s what I’m giving you, effective immediately. Are you not a man of your word, Mr. Frederick?”
Mr. Frederick finally agreed to sell the figurine. Ryan was now ready for the next step. He called a few people from his car and made a quick stop before returning to his mother’s house.
“Where on earth have you been, Ryan?” his mother asked. “I return from the hospital to find the house empty, and poor Bella bored out of her mind. Your dog misses you; I really can’t keep her busy enough, and I’ve barely seen you since the funeral…”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he muttered. “Please just trust that what I’ve been doing is very important. It will also be over very soon.”
Ryan stood behind a pillar near the back of the auction house’s main bidding area and studied the crowd. The figurine he’d bought was the next lot up for bid. He glanced toward the podium as it was brought to the front.
As the price climbed, the number of participants whittled down to just two. One was an overweight man with a prominent nose, and the other was a tall, white-haired man in a navy suit. Neither of them was his father.
Ryan had insisted on anonymity and personally paid for several adverts to ensure his father, wherever he might be, would know that the figurine was on auction today.
“$600,000 going once,” the auctioneer declared.
Ryan’s heart sank. He feared that not only would he lose his bait and miss the chance to find his father, but he would also make a huge loss on the figurine.
“…going twice…”
“$1 million!”
Ryan got goosebumps at the sound of his father’s voice. He stared in shock as Arnold rose from a seat near the back of the auction room and removed his wide-brimmed hat.
“$1 million going once…going twice…sold to the man in the beige coat!” The auctioneer banged his gavel.
Immediately, Arnold put his hat back on and headed for the door. Ryan rushed around the edge of the room and blocked his path. Then Detective Bradshaw stepped forward and handcuffed Arnold.
“Ryan?” Arnold frowned at Ryan. “You tricked me! This was a trap!”
“Don’t act like I’ve committed some terrible betrayal, Dad! You’re the one who had an affair and faked your own death so you could run off with your mistress! How could you?”
Arnold hung his head as he confessed that he was tired of his old life and wanted to start a new one with his new love, Miss Pearson.
“So you took out a huge amount in life insurance for your new life, bribed the coroner to falsify your death certificate and cause of death, and had all of us gather around an empty casket to mourn you!” Ryan hissed.
“‘A man should do what is right, not follow his own selfish interests.’ You taught me that, Dad. I’m sorry you couldn’t follow your own principles, but I hope you realize that your failure to do so led to your downfall.”
Detective Bradshaw assured Ryan that Miss Pearson would be caught soon, too. Then Arnold was taken away to the police car.
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Boy Drops a Letter into an Abandoned House’s Mailbox, Receives a Mysterious Reply the Next Day — Story of the Day
Six-year-old Ethan had recently lost his mother, leaving a deep void in his heart. In his grief, he started writing letters to her, pouring out his feelings on paper. One day, while wandering the streets, he stumbled upon an old, rusty mailbox at an abandoned house. He decided to slip one of his letters inside, never expecting anyone to see it. To his astonishment, the very next day, he found a mysterious reply waiting for him.
Ethan, a six-year-old little boy with curly brown hair, felt a constant weight on his chest since his mother passed away. His father, Jacob, seemed lost in his world of grief.
Jacob used to be a lively and attentive father, but now he barely noticed Ethan, spending most of his time staring at old photos or working late to avoid the empty house.
“Mom, I miss you so much,” Ethan whispered to his toy car.
He often imagined his mother traveling with him in the little car.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Ethan missed her gentle voice, warm hugs, and reading bedtime stories with her every night. In his loneliness, he began writing letters to her.
“Dear Mom,
Today was another hard day without you. I miss you so much. Dad is really sad too. I don’t think he notices me much anymore. I wish you were here to hug me and tell me everything will be okay.
Love, Ethan”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
He poured his heart into those letters and hoped she would hear him.
One day, while wandering around his neighborhood, Ethan stumbled upon an old, abandoned house. The paint was peeling, the windows were boarded up, and the garden was overgrown with weeds.
“Hey, Mom,” Ethan said to his toy car, “look at this old house. It’s kind of spooky but also cool, right?”
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He walked closer, curiosity driving him.
Ethan saw the rusty mailbox at the front gate. That day, he had brought one of his letters with him, tucked safely in his jeans pocket, intending to read it to his mom in a quiet spot. Ethan just slipped it inside the mailbox, thinking no one would ever see him.
“Mom, I’m leaving this letter here,” he whispered. “It will be our secret.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
He took a step back and looked at the house again.
“Do you think anyone lives here?” he asked his car, imagining his mother’s voice answering. “Probably not, but it’s a good place for my letter.”
Ethan stood there for a moment longer, feeling a bit silly but also comforted by the act.
“Okay, let’s go home now,” he said to the car. “Maybe we’ll come back tomorrow.”
As he walked home, his mind wandered to thoughts of his mother, picturing her reading his letter and smiling.
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“I hope you like my letters, Mom,” he whispered, clutching the toy car even tighter. “I’ll keep writing them, I promise.”
When he reached his house, his dad was still sitting at the table in the living room. Ethan paused at the doorway, watching his father for a moment.
“Dad,” he said quietly, but Jacob didn’t respond. Sighing, Ethan headed to his room, pulling out another piece of paper to write another letter to his mom.
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“Dear Mom,” he began, “I found a new place to leave my letters for you. It’s an old, abandoned house, and it feels like a special spot just for us…”
As he wrote, he felt the sadness lifting just a little, finding solace in the connection created, even if it was only in his imagination.
“Goodnight, Mom,” he whispered to the toy car on his bedside table before drifting off to sleep.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
The next day, Ethan felt a strange urge to visit the abandoned house again. He wanted to leave his new letter in that mailbox.
As he approached the gate, he noticed something different. The mailbox was slightly open. Ethan’s heart raced as he looked around.
Inside, he found a folded piece of paper. It was a letter addressed to … him. He unfolded it and began to read.
“Dear Ethan,” it started. “Thank you for sharing your beautiful words. Your letters have touched my heart. Please don’t stop writing. With love, Clara.”
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Ethan was so absorbed in the letter that he didn’t hear the front door of the house creak open. A woman stepped out quietly.
She was older, with silver hair and kind, but sad eyes. She watched Ethan read her letter, a gentle smile forming on her face.
Suddenly, Ethan felt a presence and looked up, startled. He nearly dropped the letter.
“Oh! I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, taking a step back. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
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The woman held up her hand in a calming gesture. “It’s alright, dear,” she said softly. “I’m Clara. I’ve been reading your letter.”
Ethan blinked in surprise. “You…you read them?”
Clara nodded. “Yes, and they’ve brought me a lot of comfort. Your letter reminded me of my own son. I lost my family years ago.”
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“I miss my mom so much,” Ethan said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Clara stepped closer, her eyes filled with empathy.
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“I know, Ethan. Grief is a heavy burden to carry. But sharing your feelings, even through letters, can help lighten that load.”
A loud, angry voice interrupted them just then, “Clara!”
A tall, stern-looking man marched towards them. “It’s time you left, Clara,” Mr. Harrow said harshly. “You’ve had enough time to grieve. This house belonged to my brother, and now it’s mine.”
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Clara stood her ground, her eyes blazing. “There was no will, Mr. Harrow. My husband died young, along with our son. Your so-called will is a forgery!”
Mr. Harrow sneered, “You have no choice. I’m taking the house. You’ve overstayed your welcome.”
As Ethan stepped forward, trying to understand the situation, Mr. Harrow finally noticed him. “And who is this? Why are kids wandering around my property?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Ethan, clutching his letter, stammered, “I…I was just leaving a letter for my mom…”
Mr. Harrow’s eyes narrowed, “Letter? What letter?”
He snatched the letter from Ethan’s hands and started tearing it up. “You’re littering this place with your trash!”
Ethan’s heart broke as he saw pieces of his letters flutter to the grass. He watched helplessly as Mr. Harrow destroyed his heartfelt messages.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Then Clara stepped forward and said, “How could you do that? He’s just a child, grieving his mother.”
But Ethan already run away, his mind racing.
“Why was Mr. Harrow so mean? And why did he want to remove Clara from her house? She seems so nice,” he whispered to his toy car as he ran. “Mom, what should I do?”
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He knew he had to do something, but he wasn’t sure what. All he knew was that he couldn’t let Mr. Harrow win. Clara needed help, and maybe, just maybe, his father could provide it.
Breathless, Ethan clutched his toy car tighter, “I won’t let him hurt Clara, Mom. I promise I’ll help her.”
***
Distraught, Ethan burst through the front door, tears streaming down his face.
“Dad! Dad, I need your help!” he shouted, rushing into the kitchen where Jacob was sitting.
Jacob looked up, startled, “Ethan, what’s wrong?”
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“It’s Mr. Harrow! He wants to kick Clara out of her house! He tore up my letters, Dad. We have to help her!” Ethan pleaded.
Jacob sighed and rubbed his temples, clearly confused.
“Ethan, calm down. I don’t understand. Who is Mr. Harrow? Who is Clara? And what letters are you talking about?”
Ethan continued to cry out, his words slurred, “Clara.. abandoned … letters .. for Mom! Mr. Harrow! Tore them up!”
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Jacob didn’t want to deal with the situation and tried to calm Ethan down.
“Ethan, stop shouting. This isn’t our problem. You shouldn’t be getting involved in things that don’t concern you.”
Ethan was still in a panic and didn’t calm down. He continued to cry and plead with his father.
Jacob was frustrated and did not fully understand the situation. He took the torn pieces of the letters from Ethan’s hands. “That’s enough, Ethan. You need to go to your room and think about your behavior.”
Ethan felt utterly helpless, and ran out of the house, slamming the door behind him. His heart pounded as he ran towards the police station, determined to find someone who would listen and help Clara.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
***
When Ethan arrived at the station, which was on the next street, he breathlessly explained everything to the officer at the desk, hoping they would take action.
“Officer, please, you have to help! Mr. Harrow is trying to kick Clara out of her house! He tore up my letters, and he’s being so mean!” Ethan exclaimed, tears streaming down his face.
The officer listened patiently, nodding as Ethan spoke.
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“Calm down, son,” he said gently. “I understand you’re upset, but Mr. Harrow has already informed us about this. He’s claiming the house is rightfully his.”
Ethan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But Clara lives there! It’s her home!”
The officer sighed and continued, “The problem is, Clara doesn’t have any documents to prove ownership of the house. She mentioned she lost them. Without those papers, there’s not much we can do.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Ethan felt a lump in his throat, “But that’s not fair! She’s lived there for so long! You have to help her!”
The officer shook his head sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I know this is hard for you to understand, but without those documents, Mr. Harrow has the legal right to the property. It’s best if you go home now. I’ll walk you back.”
Feeling defeated, Ethan nodded slowly.
“Okay,” he whispered, his voice trembling. The officer took Ethan’s hand and guided him out of the station.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
When they arrived at his house, a worried Jacob had just returned home.
“Ethan, where have you been?” he demanded. “I’ve been searching for you at all the neighbors’ houses.”
Ethan looked down, “I went to the police, Dad. I thought they could help.”
Jacob sighed deeply and pulled Ethan into a hug, “I’m not mad, Ethan. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
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Jacob glanced at the letters on the kitchen table, the ones he had found when Ethan ran away. He had read a few of them and realized how much empathy and love Ethan had in his heart and how little attention he had been giving to his son’s feelings and struggles.
After a long moment of silence, Jacob made a decision.
“Alright, Ethan. Let’s go talk to Clara. She can stay with us until we figure this out.”
Ethan’s eyes lit up with hope. “Really, Dad?”
Jacob nodded, a small smile on his face, “Yes, really. Let’s go help her.”
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Father and son walked back to Clara’s house together, ready to offer her the shelter and support she needed.
Little did they know, Mr. Harrow, hidden in the shadows, was watching them with narrowed eyes, already plotting his next move to reclaim the property. He had no intention of backing down.
***
Clara, Jacob, and Ethan began living together. The three of them quickly formed a close bond.
Every morning, Clara prepared breakfast while humming a cheerful tune. Her delicious cooking and the flowers she planted in the garden brought life back into the house.
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“Ethan, come help me plant these flowers,” Clara called out one sunny afternoon.
Ethan ran over, excited, “What kind are they, Clara?”
“These are marigolds. They’ll add a beautiful splash of color to the garden,” she replied, handing him a small shovel.
As they worked together, Ethan chatted away, pretending to talk to his toy car. “Mom, look at these flowers! Aren’t they pretty?” he whispered, imagining his mother was there with him.
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Jacob watched from the kitchen window, a small smile on his face. Clara’s presence had a calming effect on him. He found himself smiling more and even started joining Ethan and Clara for activities.
“Jacob, dinner’s ready!” Clara called out one evening.
Jacob came to the table, the aroma of Clara’s home-cooked meal filling the room. “Smells wonderful, Clara. Thank you.”
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Ethan chimed in, “Yeah, Clara, you’re the best cook ever!”
Clara laughed, a warm, hearty sound, “Thank you, Ethan. I love cooking for you both.”
After dinner, Clara and Ethan settled on the couch with a book of fairy tales.
“Once upon a time,” Clara began, and Ethan snuggled closer, listening intently. These moments became a cherished part of their daily routine. Ethan’s sadness began to lift, bit by bit, replaced by the warmth of Clara’s love and stories.
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A few months passed quickly. The legal situation with Clara’s house was resolved in her favor. The ownership documents were found in the registry, proving her rightful claim to the house. Mr. Harrow’s will was confirmed to be a forgery, and he received only a verbal warning to stay away from Clara, as she chose not to press charges against him.
Jacob and Ethan went with Clara to her house, carrying a mix of hope and sadness.
“I don’t want you to go, Clara,” Ethan said, his voice trembling.
Jacob placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “We can still visit, Ethan.”
When they arrived, they were shocked to see the destruction. Mr. Harrow had demolished half of it with the help of hired workers and a crane.
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Clara’s eyes filled with tears. “How could he do this?”
Ethan looked up at his father, his eyes pleading, “Dad, we have to do something.”
Jacob’s face hardened,. “We will, Ethan. I promise.” He turned to Clara. “I’m going to personally sue Mr. Harrow for this. He won’t get away with it.”
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Clara nodded, wiping her tears. “Thank you, Jacob.”
Jacob looked at Ethan, then back at Clara.
“You’ll stay with us. We’ll all work together to fix up your home. You’ve become a dear person to both of us, Clara.”
Then Ethan gave Clara his toy car. “You’re part of our family now,” he said, offering it as a sign of trust and acceptance. It was the most precious thing he had, symbolizing how much she meant to him and how she had become an important part of their lives.
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Clara’s eyes softened as she hugged Ethan back. “Thank you, Ethan. Thank you, Jacob. You’ve both given me a second chance at happiness.”
Together, they headed back home, ready to face the challenges ahead. The bond they had formed was strong, and they knew that together, they could overcome anything.
As they walked, Ethan held his toy car close and whispered, “Mom, Clara is staying with us. She makes me happy, and I think you would like her too.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Chloe found her foster daughter, Alicia, covered in oil paint at home. She knew Alicia had been at Orin’s studio. Orin, their neighbor, was an artist in his fifties, and Chloe was in love with him. To stop Alicia from making a big mistake, Chloe was ready to reveal an old family secret. Read the full story here.
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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