“We don’t have a son anymore.” When Emily’s husband returns from school pickup with a stranger’s child instead of their son, her world implodes. His chilling explanation only deepens her worry and leaves her wondering if her husband has gone too far.
A headache had been pounding behind my eyes all afternoon, each throb making the world pulse like a bad dream. When Michael offered to pick up Ethan from kindergarten, I could’ve cried from relief.
A woman with a headache | Source: Midjourney
Between the budget reports at work and the constant worry about my mom’s declining health, my brain felt ready to explode.
“You’re sure?” I asked, already sinking into the couch cushions. “I know you have that conference call with Singapore…”
“I’ll reschedule.” He grabbed his keys, the metal jangling too loud in my sensitive ears. “The market analysis can wait. Get some rest, Em. You look like death warmed over.”
A man standing in his living room | Source: Midjourney
“Always the charmer,” I muttered.
Michael tended to make snap decisions, which bugged me occasionally, but at least today it worked in my favor.
I must’ve dozed off because the next thing I knew, the front door was creaking open. Something felt wrong. The usual thunder of Ethan’s footsteps was missing, replaced by an eerie silence that made my skin crawl.
There was no excited chatter about playground adventures, no backpack hitting the floor with a thud, and no demands for after-school snacks.
A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney
I pushed myself up, squinting against the afternoon light. Michael stood in the doorway, but instead of our son’s Spider-Man backpack and mess of brown curls, I saw a tiny girl with braids, wearing clothes that looked a size too small.
Her brown eyes darted around our living room like a trapped animal, taking in the framed family photos and Ethan’s scattered Legos.
“Where’s Ethan?” My voice came out scratchy and uncertain. The pounding in my head intensified like a drum beating out a warning I couldn’t quite understand.
A confused woman | Source: Midjourney
Michael’s face was blank, eerily calm. “We don’t have a son anymore.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “What?” I stumbled to my feet, headache forgotten. “What are you talking about? Where is our son?”
He set the little girl down on the couch, his movements deliberate and controlled. “This is Mia. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”
“Michael.” I grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at me.
A stern man | Source: Midjourney
My fingers dug into his sleeve hard enough to leave marks. “Tell me where our son is right now.”
“He’s safe,” Michael said, his voice cold in a way I’d never heard before. “He’s with Mia’s family. And he’s staying there until he learns some valuable lessons about kindness and gratitude.”
“What did you do?” The room spun around me, and I had to grip the back of the couch to stay upright. “You can’t just… that’s kidnapping! Have you lost your mind?”
A woman leaning on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“It’s not kidnapping. I spoke with Mia’s mother. We agreed this would be good for both children.” He loosened his tie, a gesture that usually meant he was settling in at home. The normalcy of it made me want to scream.
“Good for—” I broke off, staring at the little girl who sat perfectly still, her hands folded in her lap. She looked like she was trying to disappear into the cushions. “Michael, this is insane. What did Ethan do that was so terrible?”
His jaw tightened. “He’s been bullying Mia. He made fun of Mia’s cardboard dollhouse and called it trash. And he told everyone her family must be too poor to buy real toys.”
An emotional man | Source: Midjourney
He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his usually perfect parting. “But it’s more than that. Lately, he throws fits when he doesn’t get exactly what he wants. He broke his new tablet last week because the game wouldn’t load fast enough.”
Michael looked me dead in the eye then and said, “Our son has become entitled, Emily. Spoiled. He needs to learn what it’s like on the other side.”
I sank onto the couch, my mind racing.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
Yes, Ethan could be selfish sometimes — what five-year-old wasn’t? We’d been working on it, trying to teach him about sharing and gratitude. But this…
“There had to be better ways to handle this,” I muttered. “Timeout, taking away privileges—”
“Those don’t work anymore.” Michael’s voice softened slightly. “Em, he needs to understand. Really understand. Words aren’t enough. Sometimes you have to feel something to learn from it.”
I looked at Mia again.
A girl sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
She was thin, with careful eyes that seemed too old for her face. When she caught me watching, she gave me a tiny, hesitant smile that broke my heart.
“Hi, Mia,” I said gently. “Are you hungry?”
She nodded, and something in my chest twisted. I knew Michael was wrong about this, but I also knew that look. It was the look of a child who wasn’t used to being asked what they needed.
“Let’s get you something to eat,” I said, standing up.
A tense woman forcing a smile | Source: Midjourney
Once I’d settled Mia in the kitchen with a plate of chicken nuggets and fries, I pulled Michael aside for a serious adult conversation.
“I still can’t believe you did this without consulting me,” I said in a low voice. “It was impulsive and wrong. That little girl is so confused, and I bet Ethan is, too. And I’ll only agree to this experiment if we go over to Mia’s house today and explain everything properly to Ethan.”
Michael nodded. “You’re right, it was impulsive, but this will teach Ethan gratitude and humility in a way we never could. You’ll see.”
A serious man | Source: Midjourney
The drive to Mia’s house felt surreal. We passed from our neighborhood of manicured lawns and SUVs into a part of town where apartment buildings with broken windows loomed over littered sidewalks.
A group of men huddled around a burning trash can, and I found myself checking that the car doors were locked.
Mia’s house was small, with peeling paint and a chain-link fence. The yard was neat though, with carefully tended flowers growing in old coffee cans.
A small house | Source: Midjourney
Inside, I found my son sitting on a worn couch, his eyes red from crying. When he saw me, he launched himself into my arms with such force that we nearly fell.
“Baby,” I whispered, holding him tight. “I need you to listen to me, okay?”
I pulled back to look in his eyes, those familiar hazel eyes that usually sparkled with mischief. “What you did to Mia wasn’t kind and I know you could do better. Your dad and I love you so, so much that we want to help you be better, okay? This… this swap is to help you understand why kindness matters.”
A woman hugging her son | Source: Midjourney
He nodded, lower lip trembling. “I’m sorry, Mommy. Can I come home now?”
My heart cracked. “Not yet, sweetheart. But soon.”
Over the next few days, something shifted. Ethan helped Mia’s mom with dishes and laundry, learning how much work goes into keeping a home running when you can’t afford a cleaning service.
A boy helping to fold laundry | Source: Midjourney
He played with Mia’s siblings, sharing the few toys they had. He watched Mia’s mom count out food stamps at the grocery store and saw how she stretched every dollar until it screamed.
Meanwhile, Mia bloomed in our house like a flower finally getting sun. She drew pictures, played with Ethan’s games, and slowly began to trust that there would always be enough food at dinner.
The first time I made pancakes for breakfast, her eyes went wide with wonder.
Pancakes | Source: Pexels
“We can have breakfast food in the morning?” she asked, and I had to leave the room so she wouldn’t see me cry.
When the swap ended, both children were changed. Ethan hugged Mia and then presented her with his favorite action figure.
“Maybe I can come play sometimes? Mom said we could have playdates.”
Mia’s whole face lit up. “Really? You’d want to?”
Two children smiling | Source: Midjourney
That night, Michael and I sat on the porch swing. The evening air was thick with the scent of jasmine from our neighbor’s garden.
“It was still wrong,” I said quietly. “But I understand why you did it.”
He took my hand, his grip tight. “I was terrified the whole time. I was afraid I’d ruined everything, that you’d never forgive me… that something terrible would happen to him…”
I squeezed his hand back, watching the stars come out. Sometimes love meant making impossible choices.
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
Sometimes it meant learning to forgive — others and ourselves. “We need to talk about your tendency to make unilateral decisions about our son.”
“I know.” He sighed. “I just… I couldn’t bear the thought of him growing up to be one of those people who never see beyond their privilege, who think the world owes them everything. Like I was before I met you.”
I leaned my head against Michael’s shoulder, listening to the crickets sing.
A couple on their porch | Source: Midjourney
Tomorrow we’d deal with the aftermath, but tonight, in this moment, I could feel something healing — not just in our child, but in all of us.
Here’s another story: When Madison reveals her newborn’s name, her mother turns pale and leaves abruptly. Days later, her father shows up, desperate for her to change it. As tensions rise, Madison discovers her son’s name is linked to a devastating secret from her parents’ past, one that could destroy her family.
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.
Evil Stepmothers Who Met Their Match: Stories of Karma Catching Up in the Most Unexpected Ways
Five gripping tales reveal what happens when karma takes center stage. From a sabotaged prom to a wedding day showdown, stolen dreams, and shocking secrets, these stepmothers’ schemes backfire in ways no one saw coming. Justice has never been so unexpected — or so satisfying.
Stepmothers who have long reveled in their schemes and manipulations finally meet their match in this compilation! With a mix of drama, humor, and poetic irony, these stories deliver a satisfying dose of comeuppance, proving no one is immune to the clever hand of karma.
A confident teen girl | Source: Midjourney
My Stepmom Secretly Canceled My Prom Hair Appointment to Ruin My Day – But Her Jaw Dropped When a Limousine Showed Up for Me
Seven years ago, my mom passed away from pneumonia. Before I knew it, my dad was seeing Carla, and a year later, he married her.
“Your father doesn’t waste any time, does he?” my aunt sniffed on their wedding day.
A little girl and her aunt | Source: Midjourney
Living with my new step-brother, Mason, and Carla was fine at first, but Carla’s passive-aggressive jabs soon started piling up. I remember once I caught her staring at me.
“You look too much like your mother, Emily,” she said. “No wonder your father gives Mason more attention.”
I sighed and ignored her, trying not to let her words get to me.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
My dad, of course, didn’t notice a thing. And she loved being able to taunt me without any repercussions.
Fast forward to prom season. I’d saved my babysitting money for months to buy a gorgeous violet dress. It reminded me of Mom because violet was her favorite color.
Prom was going to be my night. I just knew it. I’d even booked a hair appointment at a fancy salon. Everything was set. But then the big day came, and Carla ruined it.
An upset girl | Source: Midjourney
When I got to the salon, the receptionist told me my appointment was canceled.
“I didn’t cancel!” I exclaimed. “Why would I? Prom is this evening!”
“Calm down, honey,” the receptionist said. She went to get the hairdresser, who looked very uncomfortable when they returned.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
“I got a call earlier today to cancel your appointment, Emily,” she told me. “I assumed it was your Mom?”
My heart dropped. I was still processing everything when I looked over and saw her.
Carla! Sitting there, getting her hair done. Of course. Carla had canceled my appointment.
A woman getting her hair done | Source: Midjourney
I ran out of the salon, my head spinning. My perfect prom was falling apart around me.
When I got home, I locked myself in my room. Tears poured down my face as I tried to style my hair, but nothing looked good.
I stared at my dress, feeling like an idiot for telling Carla my plans in passing.
A prom dress hanging in a closet | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go to prom anymore. What was the point? I was already upset and didn’t feel like anything good could come from this.
Suddenly, I heard honking outside. I dragged myself to the window, expecting to see a commotion on the road. But when I looked out, my jaw dropped.
A glossy black limousine was parked in front of our house.
A sleek black limousine parked outside | Source: Midjourney
There was no way that the car was for me. My friends’ parents had said no when we first discussed hiring a limo. Nevertheless, I ran downstairs.
When I reached the doorway, the driver stepped out and approached our front door. My dad, who had been as clueless as ever during all this, stood on our porch looking confused.
“I’m here for Miss Emily, sir,” the driver said, holding out a small card.
A chauffer holding a note | Source: Midjourney
Miss Emily? Me? I hesitantly took the card and opened it. Inside, written in neat handwriting, were the words:
To my beautiful sister, Emily. I know you’ve had a rough time lately, but you deserve the best night ever! Enjoy the limo, and don’t worry about a thing. I’ve been saving all my birthday and Christmas money.
Have a magical night, sis.
Love, Mason.
A teenage girl reading a note | Source: Midjourney
Mason? My 11-year-old stepbrother did this?
I burst into tears again, but this time from pure shock and gratitude. I ran upstairs to find Mason in his room, grinning like he’d just pulled off the ultimate prank.
“I heard Mom on the phone this morning,” he said, shrugging like this wasn’t a big deal. “Canceling your appointment wasn’t fair at all.”
A smiling boy in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney
“But did you really use your money?” I asked him, feeling horrible.
“Not really,” he grinned. “See, Mom has been saving to buy some fancy necklace. After she left this morning, I took some money from her stash and went to Mr. Johnson next door. He owns the limo company, remember?”
But Mason didn’t stop there.
A smiling girl | Source: Midjourney
“There’s more, Em,” he said. “Mrs. Evans, from across the road? Her daughter is a stylist at the mall. She’s coming here to do your hair and makeup soon.”
Just as the words left his mouth, the doorbell rang.
“That should be her!” Mason said. “Go wash your face. I’ll send her up.”
A stylist holding her make up bag | Source: Midjourney
Twenty minutes later, I looked like a princess. I just wished my mom was around to fuss over me. I wanted a hug from her more than anything.
When Carla drove into our driveway, I was already outside, stepping into the limo like a movie star.
Her jaw dropped.
A smiling teenage girl dressed for prom | Source: Midjourney
“Richard? Did you do this?” I heard her shriek to my father before the driver closed the door.
Prom was everything I had hoped for. When I arrived at the hall in the limo, heads turned. I was glowing, and I knew it. For the first time in a long time, I felt like my mom was right there with me.
The whole night was pure magic.
Teenage girls at prom | Source: Midjourney
As for Carla, I hope she learned a lesson. You can’t mess with someone’s joy and get away with it… especially if your son is going to save the day!
My Stepmom Stole $5,000 from My College Fund to Get Veneers for Herself — Karma Hit Her Hard
I’m Kristen, your average 17-year-old. My mom passed away when I was young, but she left behind a college fund. It wasn’t huge, but it was a start to secure my future.
A distressed teenage girl lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
My dad, Bob, and I had been adding to it, mostly from my part-time gigs tutoring kids and babysitting.
Everything was on track until my stepmother Tracy stole $5000 from me.
If vanity were an Olympic sport, Tracy would make Narcissus look like an amateur. She spends hours in front of the mirror but never has time for anything that really matters, like, oh I don’t know, being a decent human.
A senior woman applying lipstick | Source: Pexels
One day, I came home to find Tracy grinning like a Cheshire cat, except her teeth looked more like construction cones dipped in mustard.
“Kristen, darling!” she chirped. “Guess what? I’m getting veneers! I borrowed a little from your college fund to make it happen. Just $5,000!”
I felt like I’d just been sucker-punched. “You did WHAT? You STOLE my college fund?”
Tracy rolled her eyes dramatically. “Stole? I’m family. It’s not a big deal, honey!”
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
“You had NO RIGHT! That money’s for my future. My mom set it up for me.”
“Oh, save the theatrics! It’s just money. And your father agreed to it,” Tracy winked.
Now, that was a lie. Dad wouldn’t agree to this in a million years. I stormed out and immediately called Dad, who was just as shocked as I was.
A furious young girl frowning | Source: Midjourney
“I’ll talk to her,” he promised. In Dad’s terms, that meant “I’ll mention it once and hope it magically resolves itself.”
A few weeks later, Tracy got her veneers. She strutted around the house, flashing her new teeth at every opportunity. It was like living with a deranged lighthouse.
But the best was yet to come.
A young lady talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
A month after her “transformation,” Tracy threw a BBQ to show off her new chompers to the entire neighborhood.
“Ladies, gather ’round!” Tracy announced, clinking her wine glass with a spoon. “I simply must tell you about my transformation! It’s all thanks to the marvelous Dr. Kapoor,” Tracy gushed. “He’s not just a dentist, he’s an artist!”
I rolled my eyes so hard I could practically see my brain.
A smiling senior woman holding a wine glass and bottle | Source: Pexels
Just then, Tracy set her wine glass down and reached for a piece of corn on the cob. “You know, ladies, life is all about taking chances and—”
C-R-A-C-K! The sound echoed across the backyard like a gunshot. Tracy’s eyes went wide, her hand flying to her mouth.
There, nestled in the butter of her corn on the cob, was one of her precious veneers. The gap in her smile was so big, it could swallow a whole lollipop!
Close-up of a shocked woman with a missing tooth | Source: Midjourney
“I… I…” Tracy stammered, suddenly sounding like she was auditioning for the role of Sylvester the Cat. “Ekthcuthe me!”
She bolted into the house, leaving behind a yard full of bewildered guests and one very satisfied stepdaughter trying desperately not to burst into maniacal laughter.
When she called Dr. Kapoor a few days later, I overheard a conversation that was music to my ears.
A young lady laughing | Source: Midjourney
Turns out, Tracy had opted for the bargain basement veneers and would have to pay a hefty chunk to redo the whole veneer! Karma had just given Tracy a spanking.
Dad, finally growing a backbone, confronted Tracy that evening.
“We need to talk about Kristen’s college fund,” he said, his voice firm (for the first time in a very looooong time! Way to go, Daddy!)
A senior man frowning | Source: Midjourney
“You’re going to pay back every cent you took from Kristen’s fund,” he said. “And if you can’t… well, I think we need to reevaluate this situation.”
In the following weeks, the neighborhood buzzed with gossip about Tracy’s “dental disaster.” She couldn’t show her face without someone asking about her “million-dollar thmile.”
As for me? Dad made good on his promise. He ensured Tracy repaid every cent, and he’s been working overtime to add extra cash to my college fund.
Close-up of a man holding money | Source: Pexels
My Stepmom Came to My Wedding in a White Dress, Saying She ‘Deserves Attention Too’ – So My Husband Taught Her a Real Lesson
Linda, my stepmother, came into my life after Mom passed away when I was ten. She loved being the center of attention.
With my wedding day approaching, I knew Linda would find a way to make the day about her. She always did.
I was trying hard not to worry about it the day I met up with Sarah, my best friend and maid of honor, at the wedding planner’s office.
Two female friends sharing a hug | Source: Pexels
We entered the wedding planner, Grace’s office, and she immediately dropped a bombshell.
“Your stepmother requested to be seated in the front row and insisted on giving a speech during the reception, Alexandra,” she said, glancing up from her notes.
I was stunned. I’d chosen to honor my late mother by reserving a seat for her in the front row. Linda knew this. How could she?
A worried woman | Source: Pexels
I sighed, feeling the familiar frustration rise. “She always has to make everything about herself. I bet she’s got some grand performance in mind!”
Sarah leaned in closer. “We need to be prepared for whatever she’s planning.”
Grace looked at me with a concerned expression. “How would you like to handle this, Alexandra?”
A wedding planner | Source: Midjourney
At my request, Grace agreed to explain to Linda once more that I’d reserved the front-row seat to honor my late mom. She would also dissuade Linda from giving a speech.
As we left Grace’s office, Sarah squeezed my arm.
“Don’t worry, Alex. We’ve got this. Linda won’t ruin your day.”
A woman getting consoled by a friend | Source: Pexels
Once I got home, I shared my concerns with Tom.
“Linda turns everything into a spectacle,” I moaned. “I’m afraid Linda will make our wedding about her.”
Tom smiled reassuringly. “I’ve got a plan. Let her have her moment. It’ll all work out.”
“What kind of plan?” I asked, curious.
A woman sitting on a chair and posing | Source: Pexels
He kissed my forehead. “Just trust me. It’s a surprise. But I promise, it’ll keep the focus where it should be — on us and your mom’s memory.”
I sighed, feeling a bit better. “I hope so. I just want everything to go smoothly. Linda can be so unpredictable.”
Tom squeezed my hand. “I know. But we’ve got this.”
A woman holding a man’s hand | Source: Pexels
Soon, the wedding day arrived.
While I was still in my bathrobe getting ready, Sarah burst into the room, her face pale.
“You won’t believe this,” she said, pulling me to the window.
I looked out and saw Linda emerging in a full-length white wedding dress.
An elderly woman posing in her wedding gown | Source: Midjourney
“What the…” Okay, this was something I didn’t see coming.
“Linda, what are you doing? You can’t wear white to my wedding!” I stormed over to her, unable to hide my fury.
She smirked, not showing even one ounce of regret. “You’re young, Alexandra. You have your whole life ahead of you. This might be my last chance to feel like a bride again. I deserve this attention.”
A smiling elderly woman in a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney
I felt my anger rising, but Tom pulled me aside.
“Trust me, we’ll sort this out later,” he whispered with a mischievous smile.
“But Tom, how could she?”
“Trust me, okay?” he said, and I relented.
A newly wed couple | Source: Pexels
The ceremony proceeded, with Linda sitting in the front row, basking in her stolen spotlight. She’d clearly railroaded Grace to get what she wanted.
When it was time for the speeches, Linda stood up. But before she could speak, Tom took the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to share a special video tribute to Alexandra’s late mother.”
The lights dimmed, and a beautiful montage of my mom played on the screen.
A bride looking at a screen | Source: Midjourney
As the tribute ended, Tom looked at me with a knowing smile. “This day is about honoring your mother and our love, Alex. No one can take that away.”
Then he looked at Linda. “Linda, could you join us up here?” he asked.
As she made her way to the stage, Tom continued, “Linda has always been a star in her own right, so we’ve decided to let her shine even more.”
A groom talking on the mic | Source: Midjourney
Another slideshow began to play. The first few pictures showed Linda in her white dress from various angles at the wedding. But then, Tom’s twist came.
The next photo showed Linda sneaking into my bridal suite earlier that morning. She was caught on camera trying on my wedding veil and twirling around with a bouquet she’d taken from the floral arrangements.
The room gasped, and Linda’s face turned red.
A gray-haired woman wearing a veil | Source: Pexels
“Wait, Linda, we’re not finished,” Tom said, motioning to the DJ.
Suddenly, the speakers played a recording of Linda on the phone with her friend, boasting about her plan to outshine me.
“This little princess needs to learn her place. I’ve waited long enough to have my moment,” her voice echoed through the hall.
An angry elderly bride | Source: Midjourney
The crowd was stunned, and a few people even booed. Tom wrapped his arms around me and whispered, “I told you I had it covered.”
Linda, red-faced and cornered, slipped out of the hall as quietly as she could. Tom and I shared a smile, knowing we taught her a lesson.
She was in the spotlight as she was wanted, but for all the wrong reasons.
A crying elderly woman | Source: Midjourney
I Found a Lace Robe Hidden in My Husband’s Closet – Then I Saw My Stepmother Wearing It
When my dad passed away last year, my husband, Jason, our six-year-old daughter, Emma, and I moved in to help my stepmother, Lorraine.
Living with her was like walking on a tightrope. Everything about Lorraine was sharp — her stilettos, her words, even the way she eyed Jason when she thought I wasn’t looking.
An older woman in a black dress | Source: Midjourney
But family is family, and I tried to make it work.
Until I found the robe.
I was folding Jason’s laundry. As I opened his closet to hang up a shirt, I noticed a small glossy gift bag shoved into the corner, partly hidden beneath his jackets.
A glossy gift bag | Source: Midjourney
I pulled it out, my pulse quickening when I saw what was inside: a lace robe, sheer and intimate.
My first thought was that Jason had bought it for me. If only that had been the truth.
A few days later, Lorraine called me into her room.
“Oh, Calla, sweetheart,” she cooed. “You won’t believe what my new boyfriend got me!”
A maroon bedroom | Source: Midjourney
New boyfriend? Lorraine hadn’t mentioned anyone else before.
When I walked in, my stomach dropped.
There she was, draped in the robe I’d found in Jason’s closet. She twirled, the lace floating around her like some cruel joke.
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
Was Jason…? No. He wouldn’t. Lorraine?
My knees felt weak. I stumbled out of her room, her laughter echoing behind me.
That night, I cornered Jason after I finished reading with Emma.
A mom and daughter reading a book | Source: Midjourney
“Did you give Lorraine a robe? The lace one I found in your closet?”
Jason’s face twisted in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
“She showed me a robe earlier,” I said tearfully. “The same one I found in your closet.”
Jason’s jaw dropped. “You think I’d buy her something like that? Are you serious right now? I don’t know where she got this robe, but it wasn’t from me.”
A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few days, I couldn’t shake the unease. Lorraine’s smug looks and Jason’s denial all felt like pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t solve.
Then, one afternoon, I heard Lorraine on the phone.
“Yes, Kerry, of course, I planted it,” she whispered. “That idiot husband of hers didn’t even notice. It’s only a matter of time before they’re at each other’s throats. Once they leave, this house will finally be mine.”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
That night, I told Jason everything I’d overheard.
“She’s trying to ruin our marriage,” he said, his voice tight. “And to think that we uprooted Emma for this? This ends now.”
Over breakfast the next morning, I casually mentioned to Lorraine that Jason and I were considering moving out. And that evening, Jason and I invited a lawyer friend over for dinner, someone Lorraine didn’t recognize.
Bagels on a counter | Source: Midjourney
We told her he was a “realtor” helping us look for new homes, but honestly, we just wanted to figure out where we stood. I wasn’t sure that I wanted the house, but Jason had persuaded me to fight.
“Come on, honey,” he said. “Your dad built this with his hands. This home has been around since you were a child. You want Lorraine to have it, really?”
A week later, we called a “family meeting” in the living room. Lorraine sauntered in, confident and smug as if she’d already won. Jason handed her a stack of papers.
A pile of paper on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“What’s this?” she asked.
“It’s the house deed,” Jason said calmly. “It turns out that Calla and I are the primary beneficiaries. You don’t own this house, Lorraine. We do.”
“That’s not possible. Your father would never leave me with nothing…”
“He left you with a lot of money. But this is my childhood home. Of course, he’d want me to have it.”
A shocked older woman | Source: Midjourney
Within a week, Lorraine was gone.
And that robe?
Lorraine had conveniently left it behind. I donated it to charity with the rest of the things she’d abandoned. Let someone else enjoy it because I sure as hell wasn’t keeping it.
A cozy reading room | Source: Midjourney
I Overslept on the Morning of My Crucial College Entrance Exams Because Someone Turned off My Alarm
Ever since I was little, I dreamed of becoming a doctor. When my mom died of cancer, that dream only grew stronger. I worked toward my dream for years. Today was finally the day of my medical entrance exam.
A dreaming woman | Source: Pexels
Last night, I did everything to make sure I wouldn’t oversleep. I set three alarms on my phone. But when I woke up and reached for my phone, my heart stopped.
It was 9:55 a.m. My exam was starting 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.
A shocked woman in her bed | Source: Pexels
I bolted down the stairs, half-dressed.
“Linda!” I called out, desperately looking for my stepmom. “Linda, please! I need a ride! My exam is in five minutes!”
She was in the kitchen, sipping her coffee calmly. “You’re late already. You should’ve set an alarm.”
“I did!” I shouted, feeling the sting of frustration and panic in my voice. “Three of them! But somehow, they got turned off.”
An angry woman | Source: Pexels
She shrugged, a slight smirk on her lips. “Maybe this is a sign that you’re not cut out for med school, hmm?”
I stood there, feeling my face grow hot, my mind swirling with disbelief and desperation. I headed for the door, knowing I’d never make it on foot, but desperate enough to try.
“I know who did it,” my little brother Jason said then.
A young boy | Source: Pexels
He looked 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, and turn off the alarms. You said she didn’t need to be at that stupid exam, anyway.”
A serious boy | Source: Pexels
“Fine. Yes, I did it,” Linda sighed. “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.”
Just as I was about to push past her and leave, I heard sirens in the distance, heading toward our house.
Jason gave me a small, hopeful smile. “Don’t worry, Em. I called for help.”
The police sirens | Source: Pexels
“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 front door opened, and two police officers stepped inside.
Jason didn’t miss a beat. “I called you,” he said. “My sister needs to get to her entrance exam. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss it.”
A policeman on duty | Source: Pexels
The officers exchanged a glance, then turned to me. “Is that true?” the male officer asked.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I have to get to the school right now, or I’ll lose my chance to take the exam.”
“Alright, young lady,” the female officer said. “We’ll get you there.”
Linda’s face contorted with disbelief. “Wait, you’re actually going to escort her?”
“It’s our job to help people,” the officer replied.
A serious policeman | Source: Pexels
The officers helped me into their squad car, and we sped down the road with the sirens blaring. We pulled up at the exam center after the doors had been closed.
One of the proctors noticed us and approached, looking confused. “Ma’am, the exam has begun,” he said, glancing at the officers.
The policewoman explained quickly. “This young lady had her alarms sabotaged at home, but she’s here now. 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, 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 exited the exam room, exhausted but relieved. I headed home, where my dad was waiting. Jason and I told him everything.
“Is this true?” he demanded, glaring at Linda.
Linda’s eyes darted between us. “I… I was just trying to keep her from making a mistake.”
“You sabotaged her dreams because of your 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
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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