Richard buys a bus ticket for a desperate mother of three and finds dozens of boxes from her on his doorstep the next day. He has no idea her gift will land him in trouble until his daughter opens one of the boxes.
It was a bright, sunny morning. Richard was engrossed in the song playing on his headphones while he mopped the bus station floors. For the last 10 years, the bus station had been his world.
Suddenly, a voice distracted him. “Excuse me,” it said.
Richard turned around to see a woman, probably 35 years old. She looked frail, and from her red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, Richard could sense she was crying not long ago. She held a baby in her arms, and two older children stood beside her.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Can I help you with something?” Richard worriedly asked as he removed his headphones.
“I-I need to get to New York. Can you please help me buy a ticket?” she asked tremblingly.
“Is everything OK? You look tense,” he said.
The woman hesitated. “I-I want to escape my husband. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he’s… not a good man. I’ve not been able to reach him for days, and the things he’s said and done… scare me. I just want to go to my sister who lives in New York. I lost my wallet. Please help us.”
Noticing her plight, Richard couldn’t refuse her, although he knew he’d have to let go of the last money he had. He went to the counter and bought the ticket.
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“Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” she sniffled as he handed her the ticket.
“Please take care of your children,” he said.
“Can you give me your address?” she asked.
“Why would you need that?”
“I want to repay you. Please,” she said.
Richard relented, and soon, the bus the woman and her children boarded disappeared down the road.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Richard finished his shift and went home to his daughter, Amanda. She was all he had after his wife walked out on them. Richard was devastated by his wife’s decision, but he had pulled himself together for his daughter’s sake.
By the age of 10, Amanda had taken on responsibilities far beyond her years. After school, she would tie her hair up in a ponytail and dive into household chores, even helping Richard cook.
In their tiny kitchen, they danced together and tried new recipes. Then, they settled onto the couch by the evening, sharing the tales of their days. That evening was no different. But the next morning was.
Richard was startled awake by Amanda’s voice. “Dad! Wake up!” she exclaimed, shaking his shoulders gently.
He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes. “What is it, sweetie?”
“There’s something odd outside! Come with me!” she insisted, pulling him out of the bed.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Richard stepped out into the yard to see a dozen boxes. He assumed it was someone’s shipment gone astray, but then he noticed the envelope atop one of the boxes. It had a letter. He ignored that Amanda had already started opening the boxes as he began reading.
“Hi! It’s me, the woman you helped yesterday. I wanted to express my gratitude for your kindness. These boxes hold the possessions I wanted to bring to New York, but I decided to leave them to you so you could sell them and make some good money. All the best.”
Richard was still processing the letter when the sound of shattering porcelain distracted him. He spun around to see Amanda had dropped a vase on the ground. For a moment, he was annoyed at her recklessness. She had broken the woman’s vase!
But then he noticed the sparking object among the porcelain shards. He picked it up. Richard had read somewhere that diamond didn’t fog when you breathed on it. He was shocked to realize the shiny stone was a REAL diamond.
“Oh god! We’re rich!” he exclaimed joyfully, his eyes fixed on the shining gem.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“We need to return it, Dad!” Amanda skimmed the shipping documents and found the sender’s address. “It’s not ours!”
“Think about the bright future, Amanda! We could send you to a good school!”
“No, Dad! What if we are taking away someone’s last hopes?”
Richard insisted on keeping the diamond, but Amanda talked him into returning it. Richard told her he would, but he had something else on his mind. On the pretext of returning the diamond, he visited an antique shop.
“How can I help you, sir?” the proprietor, Mr. Lambert, asked as Richard approached the counter.
“I wanted to get something appraised,” he replied and placed the diamond on the counter.
Mr. Lambert adjusted the focus of his loupe. “This is a magnificent piece,” he said, examining the stone. “The clarity, the cut…it’s an exception. I’d estimate its value to be at least $100,000. If I may ask, where did you get it?”
Richard’s eyes widened at the estimate, but he quickly composed himself. “Uh, it was… an inheritance,” he said. “So…can you buy it?”
“I think I’ll need to consult a colleague. Can you wait a moment?” Mr. Lambert asked. Richard nodded, and Mr. Lambert stepped away for a call.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Good news!” he exclaimed as he returned. “We can proceed with the purchase! Can I take a look?” He extended his hand so that Richard could hand him the diamond. But there was a moment of negligence, and the diamond landed on the floor. Mr. Lambert quickly bent down and picked it up.
“Don’t worry. It’s one of the strongest substances on Earth. It’s definitely not harmed!” he said, taking a look, and returned the diamond to Richard. “I can offer you $10,000!” he said.
“Wait, but you just told me it’s worth ten times that!” Richard argued.
Mr. Lambert explained that he could only offer Richard a fraction of the market value because Richard didn’t have any documents proving the diamond’s origin. Richard asked Mr. Lambert if there was a way they could work it out, but Mr. Lambert was adamant he would offer at most $10,000.
Richard decided he didn’t want the money and drove home with the diamond. But he had a plan. Richard decided to move to another town, make fake documents for the diamond’s origin, and sell it for its full market value. He would need to persuade Amanda, but he’d manage.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
As he arrived home, Richard sensed an eerie silence. “Amanda?” he called out, but there was no response. Usually, Amanda would come running at one call.
Richard sensed something was off. He searched the whole house, but there was no sign of Amanda. He began panicking, wondering where his daughter was, when he noticed a note on the kitchen countertop.
“You have my gem! If you want your daughter back, bring it to the address below.No police or you’ll regret it.”
Richard’s heart sank, and his hands shook. Then his mind raced to the woman he’d met at the bus stop. “My husband isn’t a good man…” Her words kept ringing in his ears. He raced to the kitchen drawer and pulled out the shipping documents. The address mentioned by the kidnapper matched the shipping address.
A chill ran down Richard’s spine. He had no time to lose or doubt if the woman was an accomplice in her husband’s nasty schemes. He drove to the address and found himself in front of an old two-story structure.
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Richard’s heart throbbed in his chest as he approached the entrance. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door, which swung open. A man in a dark overcoat appeared in the doorway, aiming his gun at Richard’s temple. He was probably 40 and bore a scar on his left cheek.
“You…Richard?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“Yes, I am. Where’s my daughter?”
“Did you bring what I asked for?” the man asked.
“Yes, I did. Where’s Amanda? I need to see her!”
“All in good time!” grinned the man as he leaned closer to Richard. “First, the diamond.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Richard pulled it out from his pocket and raised it in the air. The kidnapper asked him to place it on the table. Richard entered the house and did as instructed.
The man picked up the diamond and examined it. It wasn’t long before his face contorted with fury. “This is glass! Where’s the real diamond?”
Richard was shocked. Then, he recalled the moment when Mr. Lambert had dropped the diamond. Could he have switched the gem?
“You either bring me $10,000 in a few days, or you’ll never hear your daughter’s voice again!” The kidnapper warned him.
Richard had no time to lose and quickly drove to the antique shop.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Oh, Mr. Richard! Back so soon?” Mr. Lambert smiled.
“I’m ready to sell the diamond for $10,000. I changed my mind!” he said, but Mr. Lambert refused.
“How about $7,000?” Richard further proposed.
“I’m sorry, but the diamond no longer interests me!” said Mr. Lambert.
Richard realized Mr. Lambert had indeed switched the diamonds. A strange fury gripped him. He landed a strong punch on the expert’s head, causing him to stumble. Then he grabbed a cord from a nearby table and tied the man.
“WHERE IS THE DIAMOND?” he asked angrily. “My daughter’s life is on the line, and you’re playing games?” He raised his fist, and finally, the expert spilled the truth.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
The expert revealed he and the kidnapper were in it together. They were planning on extorting $100,000 from Richard for Amanda’s release. And then it dawned on Richard that the “colleague” the expert had contacted was none other than the kidnapper.
“He lifted the diamond from a billionaire’s mansion! Every cop has been looking for it!”
The expert tried to move away from Richard but stumbled and fell, losing consciousness. Richard didn’t know what to do at first, but then he came up with a cunning plan. First, he took a picture of the unconscious expert. Wasting no time, he called the cops and left a note near the expert. Richard then drove back to the kidnapper.
As the door of the old house swung open, he approached the kidnapper. “I went to the antique shop, but guess what? Your buddy spilled quite a few beans! I know you plotted the kidnapping together.
“And well, turns out you’ve been played as much as me. He has the real diamond in a safe at the shop. I tried to get the combination from him, but things got heated, and he’s no more.”
Richard then showed him the expert’s photo to ensure the man bought his story.
The kidnapper lost his cool. “That prick!” he yelled.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
In a rage, the kidnapper stormed out of the house and sped off to the antique shop. Richard took advantage of the situation, found his daughter, and freed her.
“Dad…I heard the confrontation. Did you really…k-kill someone?” she asked, the tape across her mouth removed.
“No, honey. It was a ruse, a bluff. I had to make him believe it so he’d act recklessly,” Richard said with a smile, trying to comfort her. “But, knowing him, I’d wager he’s about to walk right into a trap. When I called the police earlier, I alerted them to the expert’s involvement, and they were headed to the antique shop.”
Amanda’s eyes widened with realization. “So, he’s going to be arrested?”
“Yes, and you are safe,” Richard said, recalling the note he had left for the cops.
“In an hour, the man who stole the diamond you’re looking for will be here,” it read.
And Richard’s plan worked. The kidnapper and expert were arrested. But there was a strange fear in his heart because he knew he would get in trouble with the law for not going to the cops immediately when he found the diamond. But at least he saved his daughter.
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If you enjoyed this story, then you might like this one about a boy who finds a box hidden inside the sofa he inherited from his granny. The letters and legal papers inside force him to make a life-altering choice.
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I Was Late to My Grandmom’s Funeral—When I Finally Got to Her Grave, There Was a Small Package with My Name on It
When Teresa’s grandmother passes away, she races across continents, desperate to say goodbye… but she arrives too late. Wracked with guilt, she visits the grave, only to discover a mysterious package left just for her. As Teresa navigates grief and love, she learns that some bonds transcend time, offering solace in the most unexpected ways.
When my uncle called that morning, I knew something was wrong before he said a word. His voice had this sharp, clipped edge, but I could still hear the strain in it.
A man talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney
“Grandma’s gone, Teresa,” he said. “She passed last night.”
For a moment, the world went silent. It was as if my mind refused to process the words.
“The funeral’s tomorrow,” he added. “If you’re not here, we’ll have to bury her without you.”
“What? Tomorrow?” My voice cracked. “I can’t… there’s no way I can get there that fast!”
A shocked woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Then don’t bother,” he said curtly. “She’s gone, Teresa. We won’t wait for you… we can’t.”
I stood frozen, phone in hand, the sharp beep of the call ending pulling me out of my stupor. My uncle Craig, ever the practical and unyielding one, had spoken as if my grandmother’s passing was just another event on a packed calendar.
But she wasn’t just my grandmother. She was my everything.
A smiling old woman | Source: Midjourney
She’d raised me after my mom passed, back when I was too young to understand what death meant. Grandma became my world. She stepped into the role of mom, confidante, and teacher with ease.
Life with her was a steady rhythm of love and laughter, her warmth filling the void my mother’s death left behind.
The thought of not being there for her, of not saying goodbye, tore at me.
An upset woman looking out of a window | Source: Midjourney
I booked the first flight out, throwing clothes into a suitcase without even checking if they matched. I wasn’t even sure if I had suitable funeral clothing, either. Every second felt like a betrayal.
I couldn’t bear the thought of her being lowered into the ground while I was thousands of miles away, stuck in some airport terminal.
The plane ride was unbearable. I was unable to eat, my food tray just sitting there, the food getting cold and congealing. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t watch any of the movies or listen to music.
A tray of airplane food | Source: Midjourney
I was numb.
Memories of my grandmother flooded my mind. Her stories, her hugs, her quiet wisdom… I kept telling myself I’d make it in time, but when I finally landed and called my uncle, the funeral was already over.
“We couldn’t wait, Teresa. Don’t act shocked. I told you this already,” he said flatly.
A woman standing in an airport | Source: Midjourney
By the time I arrived at her house, it was empty, stripped of the life it once held. My cousins had cleared out, leaving behind traces of their rushed goodbyes. There was a half-empty water bottle on the counter, a crumpled tissue on the sofa, someone’s forgotten lipstick on the floor.
I stood in the doorway, letting the silence engulf me.
Grandma’s favorite chair was still by the window, the blanket she’d always kept on her lap folded neatly over the back. On the side table, an unfinished knitted sock lay abandoned, the lavender yarn still threaded through the needles.
A ball of yarn and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
I reached out, brushing my fingers against the soft fabric, and the tears came in a flood.
She had been working on this. Just days ago, she’d sat here, humming softly as she knitted, probably thinking about some old family recipes.
I sank into the chair, clutching the sock like it was a lifeline. Memories of her voice, her laughter, her love, rushed over me. The ache in my chest was unbearable, but I didn’t want it to stop.
This pain was all I had left of her.
An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
When the sunlight began streaming through the window, I wiped my face and stood. There was one thing I still had to do.
I stopped at a florist and bought a bouquet of daisies, her favorite. The drive to the cemetery was a blur, my mind racing with all the things I wished I’d said, the moments I wished I could relive.
The grave was easy to find.
A bucket of daisies at a florist | Source: Midjourney
The fresh mound of dirt stood out starkly against the older, weathered headstones. My breath hitched as I approached, the reality of it hitting me all over again.
This was it. Her final resting place.
But something caught my eye. At the base of the grave, nestled in the dirt, was a small package. My name, Teresa, was scrawled on the paper in her unmistakable handwriting.
A package in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
My hands shook as I picked it up, my heart pounding.
The package felt almost warm, as if her love had left a mark on it. I tore at the wrapping, revealing a folded note inside.
My dear Teresa, it began.
I know your uncle probably won’t let us see each other one last time. I don’t know where I went wrong with him… but he’s always been jealous of the bond we share. I need you to know this: Teresa, you are my love, my joy, and the light in the darkest of days.
I asked Rina to leave this package on my grave after I’m gone. This is so you’ll never be late again.
A woman reading a note in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
I gasped.
Grandma had planned this? Had she known exactly how things would unfold?
And it made sense to me. Craig probably thought that Grandma was going to leave a whole lot of money to me, her house even. Not that I wanted any of it…
“Oh, Gran,” I muttered.
An old woman writing a letter | Source: Midjourney
Tears blurred my vision as I opened the smaller package inside. A gold wristwatch glinted in the sunlight, its face encircled by tiny diamonds. I turned it over, and there, engraved on the back, were the words:
Grandma and Teresa. Always and Forever.
I dropped to my knees, clutching the watch to my chest. The ache in my heart swelled to unbearable proportions. She had thought of me, even in her final days, leaving behind this symbol of her love for me.
A woman holding a watch in a box | Source: Midjourney
As I sat there, the pieces of her note lingered in my mind.
My uncle. His jealousy.
It all made sense now, the way he’d rushed the funeral, his brusque phone calls, the coldness in his voice. He’d never hidden his resentment, but to think that he’d taken it this far… refusing to wait even a few hours.
Still, as much as his actions stung, I couldn’t let them overshadow what I held in my hands. The watch wasn’t just an heirloom, it was a promise.
A man standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
It was the promise of a connection to my grandmother that time could never erase.
The cemetery was quiet as I stood by her grave, sharing memories, apologizing for being late, and thanking her for everything she’d given me.
When I finally stood to leave, I slipped the watch onto my wrist. It felt like a piece of her was with me, tangible and eternal.
A woman standing in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
The house was still empty when I returned, but it didn’t feel quite as suffocating anymore. I stood in the living room, looking at the remnants of her life, her unfinished sock, the framed photo of the two of us by the mantel.
Moments later, the door opened.
“Teresa,” he said. “What are you doing here? Why bother to come when everything is over?”
“How can you ask me such a question?” I gasped.
A grandmother’s living room | Source: Midjourney
“She was old, Teresa,” he said. “What did you expect? That the old woman would live forever?”
“When did you get so cruel, Uncle Craig?” I asked.
“When did you get so self-righteous?” he spat.
Before I knew it, two men from a moving company walked into the house.
Two men standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“I’m taking the furniture. And those expensive plates and vases. I’m going to sell them.”
“Gran will never forgive you for this,” I said simply, sitting down on the couch.
“Gran is long gone, Teresa. It’s time to move on. And don’t try to contest the will,” he said. “Gran would have given everything to me. I can’t wait to give Rose her watch. My mother would absolutely want her first-born granddaughter to have it.”
A cupboard with expensive crockery | Source: Midjourney
I pulled my sleeve down, hoping that Craig wouldn’t see the watch. I wasn’t going to hand it over. No way. But at the same time, I didn’t want to entertain Craig. He could take everything else.
A few months had passed since I left my grandmother’s house for the last time. Life had resumed its usual rhythm, or at least, that’s what it looked like from the outside.
The watch stayed on my wrist, its weight a constant reminder of her. Some days, I caught myself holding it, brushing my thumb over the inscription as if I could summon her voice.
A watch on a person’s wrist | Source: Midjourney
One evening, I made myself a cup of tea, Gran’s favorite chamomile blend, and curled up on the sofa with a blanket. The unfinished sock from her house now sat on my coffee table, neatly placed in a small knitting basket.
I picked up the knitting needles, my fingers still clumsy and awkward with the motions. She’d tried to teach me once, years ago, but I’d been too impatient to sit still.
A cup of tea on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“One day you’ll see,” she’d said with a knowing smile. “That knitting is like life. You just keep going, one stitch at a time.”
One stitch at a time.
A lavender sock and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
Judy and her family get into the habit of saving money in a “family stash jar,” which is used for emergencies or family outings. But soon, she starts noticing that someone in the family has sticky fingers, helping themselves to the money. Judy has to figure out who it is and what is the reason for such dishonesty.
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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