The morning of my medical college entrance exam I woke up late to find all my alarms mysteriously turned off. As I raced against time, my 8-year-old brother stepped in with a plan that would save everything.
Ever since I was little, I dreamed of becoming a doctor. When my mom died of cancer, that dream only grew stronger. I wanted to help people like her, to understand the disease that had taken her and to help others fight it.
A dreaming woman | Source: Pexels
I worked for this moment for years, through late nights, countless books, and more exams than I could count. Today, all that work was about to pay off: it was finally the day of my medical entrance exam.
Last night, I did everything to make sure I wouldn’t oversleep. I set three alarms on my phone—6:00 a.m., 6:15 a.m., and 6:30 a.m. I even left my curtains open so that the sunlight would wake me up. As I lay in bed, I thought of my mom, promising myself I’d make her proud.
A sleeping woman | Source: Pexels
When I opened my eyes the next morning, something felt wrong. It was dark, too dark. I reached for my phone, and my heart stopped—9:55 a.m. My exam started at 10:00.
“No, no, no! This can’t be happening!” I threw my blankets off and grabbed my phone. All three alarms were turned off.
“I know I set these!” I muttered, my hands shaking as I got dressed in record time. My mind raced with questions. How did this happen?
A shocked woman in her bed | Source: Pexels
I bolted down the stairs, half-dressed, my hair flying everywhere. “Linda!” I called out, desperately looking for my stepmom. “Linda, please! I need a ride to the college. My exam is in five minutes!”
She was in the kitchen, sipping her coffee calmly, her eyes following me with a look I couldn’t quite place. She raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that was as cold as her coffee cup was hot.
A woman sipping coffee | Source: Pexels
“You’re late already,” she said flatly. “Maybe next time, you should learn to set an alarm properly.”
“I did set them!” I almost shouted, feeling the sting of frustration and panic in my voice. “I triple-checked. They were on, all three of them.”
An angry woman | Source: Pexels
She shrugged, a slight smirk on her lips. “Clearly, you didn’t. Maybe this is a sign that you’re not cut out for med school, hmm? If you can’t even manage to wake up on time, how will you handle something serious, like a patient?”
I stood there, feeling my face grow hot, my mind swirling with disbelief and desperation. This couldn’t be real. My stepmom wouldn’t do this to me, would she?
An angry woman in a red T-shirt | Source: Pexels
I turned toward the door, knowing I’d never make it on foot but feeling I had to try. Just as I reached for the handle, I heard a small voice behind me.
“I know who did it,” my little brother Jason said, his voice shaking with nervousness but his eyes steady.
I turned, confused. “Jason, what are you talking about?”
A young boy | Source: Pexels
He took a small step forward, looking at Linda cautiously. “I saw her. Last night. She turned off your alarms, Emily.”
Linda shot him a sharp look. “Jason, stop making up stories,” she hissed.
Jason gulped but didn’t back down. “I’m not lying! I saw you go into her room, pick up her phone, and turn off the alarms. You said she didn’t need to be at that stupid exam anyway.”
A serious boy | Source: Pexels
My mind was spinning. I looked at Linda, searching her face for denial, for any sign she’d say it was a misunderstanding. But she just sighed, crossing her arms.
“You know what, Emily?” she said coolly, her voice hardening. “Fine. Yes, I did it. You’re not fit to be a doctor. It’s a waste of time, energy, and, frankly, a lot of money that your dad could spend on something worthwhile.”
“Like… your beauty salon?” The words came out before I could stop them.
An angry middle-aged woman | Source: Freepik
Just as I was about to push past her and leave, I heard sirens in the distance, getting louder, heading toward our house.
Jason, now clutching my hand, gave me a small, hopeful smile. “Don’t worry, Em. I called for help.”
Linda’s face hardened as she looked at Jason, who stood at my side, clutching my hand. “You seriously did this?” she asked, barely able to form the words.
The police sirens | Source: Pexels
Jason’s small voice cut through the tension. “You are the bad guy, Linda,” he said, his eyes fierce despite his small frame. “Emily is going to be a doctor one day. Mom would be proud of her.”
Linda’s face twisted, and before she could say anything, the wailing sirens outside grew louder. I watched her look toward the window, her eyes widening with surprise.
The front door opened, and two police officers stepped inside. One of them, a tall, broad man, spoke with a calm authority. “Is everything alright here?”
A policeman on duty | Source: Pexels
Jason didn’t miss a beat. “I called you,” he said, standing tall despite his young age. “My sister needs to get to her entrance exam. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss it.”
The officer’s eyes moved to Linda, who immediately put on an innocent act. “This is absurd!” she scoffed, folding her arms. “They’re just children, making things up because they’re late.”
But the other officer, a woman with kind eyes, knelt down to Jason’s level. “You called us to help your sister?” she asked gently.
A serious policewoman | Source: Pexels
Jason nodded vigorously. “Yes. Emily studied so hard, and she was ready. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss her test.”
The officers exchanged a glance, then turned to me. “Is that true?” the male officer asked.
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling the weight of everything settle over me. “I have to get to my college right now, or I’ll lose my chance to take the exam.”
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
The officers nodded, exchanging another glance. “Alright, young lady,” the female officer said, standing up, “We’re going to get you there.”
Linda’s face contorted with disbelief. “Wait, you’re actually going to escort her?” she stammered, her voice full of frustration. “This is ridiculous!”
“It’s our job to help people,” the officer replied, coolly dismissing Linda. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
A serious policeman | Source: Pexels
I turned to Jason, who was smiling proudly, a little hero in his own right. “Thank you, Jason,” I whispered, hugging him tight. “You saved me.”
As I left with the officers, Linda’s face was a mix of fury and disbelief. The officers helped me into their squad car, and we sped down the road with the sirens blaring, weaving through traffic as we approached the college. My heart pounded in my chest, but this time, it was with determination.
A police car in the city | Source: Pexels
At the exam center, we pulled up just minutes before the doors were set to close. The officers stepped out with me, guiding me toward the entrance.
One of the proctors noticed us and approached, looking confused. “Ma’am, the exam is about to begin,” he said, glancing at the officers.
The policewoman explained quickly. “This young lady had her alarms sabotaged at home, but she’s here now. I understand if you can’t make exceptions, but if there’s any way she can sit for the exam…”
A policewoman talking | Source: Pexels
The proctor’s stern face softened as he listened. He looked me in the eyes, as if weighing my sincerity, then gave a brief nod. “Alright. Go on in.”
“Thank you,” I managed, barely believing I’d made it.
I found my seat, still rattled but refusing to let the morning’s events get the better of me. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a second, and thought of my mom. This was my moment, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it from me. I picked up my pencil and began the test.
A young woman writing an exam | Source: Pexels
Hours later, I walked out of the exam room, exhausted but relieved. The officers who had helped me were gone, but I felt their kindness in every step as I headed home. Jason was waiting on the front steps, and he jumped up as soon as he saw me.
“Did you do it?” he asked eagerly, his eyes bright with hope.
I nodded, a smile breaking out despite my exhaustion. “I did, thanks to you.”
A young smiling woman | Source: Freepik
He threw his arms around me. “I knew you could.”
Inside, my dad was waiting. His face was pale, his mouth set in a grim line. He’d been waiting for me to come home to hear everything. Jason took the lead, explaining every detail of what had happened while I was gone.
A smiling young boy | Source: Unsplash
My dad’s face grew red with anger, his eyes narrowing as he looked over at Linda, who was trying to look calm and unaffected. “Is this true?” he demanded, his voice trembling with restrained fury.
Linda’s eyes darted between us. “I… I was just trying to keep her from a mistake. I didn’t mean for it to go so far,” she mumbled, finally looking cornered.
“You sabotaged her dreams because of your own selfishness,” my dad said coldly. “You’re not staying here another night.”
An angry man | Source: Pexels
Linda’s face turned pale as she realized he was serious. She tried to protest, but he shook his head firmly. “Pack your things, Linda. This family deserves better than this.”
Jason and I stood by the door, watching as she finally left. There was no satisfaction in it, just a sense of justice and relief.
A woman looking through a gate | Source: Pexels
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: I was heartbroken and furious when I discovered my mother-in-law Linda and her friends had devoured my $1000 wedding cake. I couldn’t believe they would ruin my special day on purpose, leaving only crumbs behind. Determined to teach my spiteful mother-in-law a lesson, I started plotting my 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.
My Husband’s ‘Business Partner’ Showed Up at Our Door and Mistook Me for the Cleaning Lady — I Decided to Play Along
When a charming stranger knocked on my door, mistaking me for the cleaning lady, I decided to play along. But what began as an amusing misunderstanding quickly unraveled into a shocking revelation.
The smell of lemon cleaner hung in the air as I scrubbed the kitchen counters. The faint hum of the dishwasher filled the quiet house.
A woman cleaning her kitchen table | Source: Pexels
Cleaning wasn’t my favorite activity, but it kept my hands busy and my mind clear. I had just tossed the sponge into the sink when the doorbell rang.
I opened the door to find a man standing there, tall and polished, with a smile that could have been pulled straight from a toothpaste commercial. He held a leather briefcase in one hand and a sleek phone in the other.
A smiling man holding his jacket | Source: Pexels
“Hello!” he said brightly. “I’m looking for Mr. Lambert. You must be the cleaning lady. Liliya, right?” He stepped forward, offering a hand. “I’m his business partner, David. Nice to meet you.”
Before I could correct him, he glanced at his watch and added, “I’ve heard so much about you from Mrs. Lambert. She showed me your picture.”
A man talking to a young woman on her porch | Source: Midjourney
My heart skipped a beat. “Mrs. Lambert?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.
“Yes! She and Greg are always such a great team,” he said with a laugh.
Mrs. Lambert? Then who am I supposed to be? The cleaning lady? My curiosity got the better of me. If he thought I was someone else, I’d play along.
A nervous suspicious woman | Source: Midjourney
“Please, come in, sir,” I said with a small bow, trying not to laugh at the absurdity. “So, you’ve known Mr. and Mrs. Lambert for a long time?”
“Oh, years,” David said, settling onto the couch. “They’re quite the pair. Always look so happy together.”
I forced a polite smile. My pulse raced as I grabbed a glass of water, needing an excuse to leave the room for a moment. Who is this Mrs. Lambert he’s talking about?
A nervous woman with a glass of water | Source: Midjourney
Back in the living room, I found David scrolling through his phone. He looked up. “You know, I have a picture of them. Let me show you.”
He passed me his phone, and my stomach dropped. There, smiling back at me, was my sister, Allison, arm in arm with Greg.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” David said.
A happy couple at a party | Source: Midjourney
I struggled to keep my composure. “When exactly was this photo taken?” I asked, my voice tight.
David didn’t notice. “Oh, about a year ago at a corporate event. Funny thing, Greg never really talked about his private life much. I thought he was single for the longest time. Then I ran into them on the street, and he introduced her as his wife.”
I swallowed hard and returned the phone to him. My ears were ringing, but David kept talking.
A man showing a photo on his phone to a woman | Source: Midjourney
“They’re such a lovely couple,” he said. “Oh, and she showed me a picture of you once. I asked her, ‘Who’s this beautiful woman?’ and she said, ‘Oh, that’s our cleaning lady.'”
My hands tightened around the glass I was holding. Cleaning lady? Is this some kind of joke?
I set the glass down and forced a smile. “You must have lots of photos of them together.”
“Absolutely! Here’s another one from the same event.” My head spun. David looked at me with concern. “Liliya, are you alright?”
A shocked woman on her couch | Source: Pexels
I took a deep breath, plastering a smile on my face. “I’m fine, sir. Would you like some coffee while you wait for Mr. Lambert?”
David smiled, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. “That’d be great. Thank you.”
I walked back to the kitchen. Mrs. Lambert? My sister? What exactly is going on here?
A woman making coffee | Source: Pexels
I returned to the living room, my heart pounding but my face composed. David sat awkwardly on the couch, stirring the coffee I’d given him. He looked up and gave me a polite smile.
“David,” I began, my voice calm but firm, “we need to talk.”
His smile faltered. “Uh, sure. About what?”
I gestured to the silver-framed photo on the mantel. “Do me a favor. Take a closer look at that picture.”
A wedding photo on a shelf | Source: Midjourney
He hesitated, then picked up the frame. His brows furrowed as he studied it. “This… this is you,” he said slowly, confusion creeping into his voice.
“That’s right,” I said. “And the man standing next to me? That’s my husband. Greg Lambert.”
David blinked, his grip on the frame tightening. “Wait. What are you saying?”
I folded my hands in my lap and leaned forward. “I’m not the cleaning lady, David. I’m Mrs. Lambert. The real Mrs. Lambert.”
A serious woman in a chair | Source: Midjourney
His face went pale. He put the photo back on the mantel as if it had burned him. “I… I don’t understand. I thought…” He trailed off, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“You thought my sister, Allison, was Mrs. Lambert,” I finished for him.
He nodded, still struggling to process. “She told me… Greg introduced her as his wife. She even showed me pictures of the two of them together. I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know!”
A nervous man in a chair | Source: Midjourney
I let the silence hang for a moment, watching him squirm. Finally, I asked, “David, why did you come here today?”
He hesitated, then sighed. “I came to convince Greg to sell his share of the business to me. But… it’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
A tired man looking up | Source: Pexels
“Well, the share isn’t technically in Greg’s name,” David admitted, glancing at me nervously. “It’s under Mrs. Lambert’s name. Your name.”
“And my sister forged my signature to block the sale?” I asked, my tone sharp.
David’s eyes widened. “I… I didn’t know it was forged, but yes, she stopped the sale. I thought it was your decision.”
I laughed bitterly, hiding my anger. “It wasn’t. But thank you for confirming what I suspected.”
An angry woman | Source: Pexels
David looked as though he wanted to crawl under the coffee table. “I feel terrible about this. I didn’t mean to drag you into anything. If I’d known—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted, though my voice carried a steely edge. “This isn’t your fault. But since you’re here, let’s finalize the deal. How much are you offering for Greg’s share?”
A serious sad man in a armchair | Source: Midjourney
David blinked, startled by my sudden shift in tone. “Uh, the original offer was quite substantial, but I’m willing to go higher if it means resolving this quickly.” He named a figure that made my head spin.
I kept my face neutral, though my mind raced. “That’s acceptable. I’ll handle the paperwork. Can you have your legal team send over the documents by tomorrow?”
A serious woman looking to her side | Source: Freepik
“Yes, absolutely,” David said, nodding eagerly. “Thank you, Mrs. Lambert. I mean—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a faint smile. “Let’s just get this done.”
The next evening, Greg burst through the front door, slamming it behind him. His face was flushed with anger, his tie loosened and his jacket slung over his arm.
“What the hell did you do?!” he shouted.
A furious man | Source: Pexels
I was sitting on the couch, reading a book. I barely looked up. “Hello, Greg. Long day?”
“Don’t play games with me!” he snapped, throwing his jacket onto a chair. “You sold my share of the business! Do you even realize what you’ve done?”
I closed the book and set it on the coffee table. “I know exactly what I’ve done, Greg. I’ve solved your little problem.”
A confident woman on her couch | Source: Freepik
“My problem?” he shouted, his face turning redder by the second. “You had no right to sell that share! That’s my company, my future!”
I stood up, facing him. “Wrong. The share was in my name. And after what I learned, I decided it was time to take control.”
Greg’s bluster faltered. “What… what are you talking about?”
A shocked man | Source: Pexels
“I’m talking about Allison,” I said, my voice cold. “Your little ‘wife.’ Or did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
Greg froze, his mouth slightly open. “Listen, I can explain—”
“No,” I cut him off. “I’m done listening to your excuses. I’ve already spoken to a lawyer. And in case you’re wondering, yes, I’ll be filing for divorce.”
Greg’s jaw dropped. “Divorce? Are you serious?”
A couple arguing | Source: Pexels
“As serious as I’ve ever been,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “And since you and Allison forged my signature, I’m entitled to compensation. The sale is already finalized. David will transfer the funds to my account by the end of the week.”
Greg staggered back, collapsing into a chair. “You… you can’t do this. You’re ruining me.”
I folded my arms, staring down at him. “No, Greg. You ruined yourself.”
A disgusted woman in a green sweater | Source: Freepik
Two weeks later, I walked out of my lawyer’s office with a signed divorce agreement in hand and a newfound sense of freedom. The settlement was more than generous.
Not only did I secure my rightful share of Greg’s business sale, but I also received significant compensation for the fraud committed under my name. Justice had been served.
Signing divorce papers | Source: Pexels
I cut ties with both Greg and Allison. My lawyer ensured the fraud never escalated to court, but the legal threat was enough to shatter their carefully constructed web of lies. Greg lost his business, and as far as I knew, his relationship with Allison didn’t survive the fallout.
For days, I replayed the betrayal in my mind, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness. But as time passed, anger gave way to clarity. They had taken my trust for granted, but their deceit had shown me a strength I didn’t know I had.
A sad woman looking out of her window | Source: Pexels
Standing in my living room, I glanced at the space where Greg’s picture once sat. It was gone now, replaced by a simple vase of fresh flowers. I smiled.
This wasn’t the end of my story. It was a new beginning. And this time, I would write it on my terms.
A woman dancing in the leaves | Source: Pexels
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