A Week Ago, My House Was Robbed — Today, My Son (Who Doesn’t Have a Job) Bought Himself a Sports Car

A week after Karen’s life savings are stolen, she’s shocked to see her son driving a new sports car. He claims it’s from a new job, but Karen isn’t convinced. As her suspicions grow, a heated confrontation unfolds, leaving Karen desperate to uncover the truth about her son’s sudden fortune.

It had been twenty years since my husband left. Twenty years of scraped-together meals, late-night shifts, and those weeks when I’d count down to payday like it was some sort of lifeline.

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

I should’ve been used to the constant balancing act of being a single mother, but it still felt like I was one misstep from everything crashing down.

Jake was my life, though. No matter how hard things got, my bright-eyed, creative son was the reason I kept going. But there was a problem, a big one.

At twenty-five, Jake still hadn’t found his footing.

A young man checking his phone | Source: Midjourney

A young man checking his phone | Source: Midjourney

He had no job and no income. His art was everything to him, but it wasn’t enough to pay the bills. And trust me, there were so many bills. The financial pressure got worse when someone broke in and stole all my savings from my lockbox.

“Mom, you just have to trust me. I’ll figure out who stole your money. It’s all gonna work out,” Jake had said last week after my house was broken into.

But his voice had been too calm. Maybe I was too used to things going wrong. Still, the pit in my stomach only grew as I thought about that night. All the cash I’d saved for years, gone in an instant.

An old lockbox | Source: Midjourney

An old lockbox | Source: Midjourney

Then came the day when everything changed. Jake had gone out, probably off working on some new project that wouldn’t pay a dime.

I was at the corner store when I saw the shiny, red sports car gleaming in the sun. It screamed money. Flashy, expensive, and out of place in our neighborhood. I was about to climb into my beaten-up sedan when a familiar figure caught my eye: Jake.

He walked over to the sports car and climbed into the driver’s seat. My jaw dropped.

A sports car | Source: Pexels

A sports car | Source: Pexels

My mind raced with possibilities as I headed home, each more impossible than the last. When I got inside, Jake was leaning against the kitchen counter, twirling the keys to the sports car parked in my driveway like they were nothing.

“Where did you get that car?” I demanded, barely able to keep my voice steady.

He glanced up, shrugging. “Oh, that? It’s nothing, Mom. I’ve got a new job.”

A man and woman speaking in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man and woman speaking in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“A job?” I scoffed, crossing my arms. “Doing what? You’ve never held down a job in your life, Jake.”

Jake rolled his eyes, pushing past me to grab a soda from the fridge. “I’m not doing some minimum-wage labor if that’s what you’re asking. It’s legit.”

“Legit?” I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up.

His jaw tightened. “I’m not stealing, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

An angry young man | Source: Midjourney

An angry young man | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, really? So where did you get the money for the car then? Or do you expect me to believe you just… stumbled into it?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” he snapped. “You wouldn’t get it anyway.”

My chest constricted. There was no way around it now. The horrible suspicion that had been gnawing at me since the robbery suddenly had teeth.

“You didn’t… take my money, did you?”

An angry young man | Source: Midjourney

An angry young man | Source: Midjourney

He turned on me so fast. “How could you even ask me that? I can’t believe you’d think that of me. I’ve done nothing but try to make things better, and this is what I get?”

Without another word, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

I didn’t want to believe my son was a thief but I needed answers. I grabbed my keys and followed him. If he was up to something, I had to know.

A woman starting her car | Source: Midjourney

A woman starting her car | Source: Midjourney

His new car was easy to tail. I followed him across town to some high-end beauty salon. My eyes narrowed as I watched him step out and wait by the curb. And then, she appeared.

A woman, older than Jake, maybe in her mid-forties, stepped out of the salon. I watched, frozen, as she wrapped her arms around Jake and kissed him. It wasn’t just a quick peck either. This was… intimate.

My throat tightened as I sank lower in my seat. Who was this woman? And what the hell was Jake doing with her?

A concerned woman in her car | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman in her car | Source: Midjourney

When they pulled away and got into the car together, I decided to keep following. They drove to the outskirts of town, where the houses turned into mansions. My stomach churned as Jake’s car pulled into the driveway of a sprawling estate.

My heart raced. This wasn’t just strange — it was wrong. Everything in me screamed that I had to stop this.

I didn’t wait for a second thought. I was out of the car and at the front door, pounding on it so hard I thought it might crack.

A grand front door | Source: Pexels

A grand front door | Source: Pexels

The door swung open, and there she was: the woman from the salon. Jake appeared behind her, his face immediately paling when he saw me.

“Mom?”

“Oh, you bet it’s your mom,” I spat. “What the hell is going on, Jake?”

The woman’s smile never faltered. “You must be Karen. Jake’s told me so much about you.”

“And you are?” I snapped, not bothering to hide the venom in my voice.

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

She extended her hand as though this was all perfectly normal. “Lydia. Jake’s girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” I nearly choked on the word. “What is going on here, Jake? How long has this been happening?”

“Three months,” Jake muttered, not meeting my eyes. “Mom, please, just calm down.”

Calm down? Was he kidding me?

A stunned and furious woman | Source: Midjourney

A stunned and furious woman | Source: Midjourney

“Calm down?” I repeated. “My house gets broken into, you show up in a sports car, and now I find out you’ve been shacked up with some rich woman for months?”

Lydia’s smile faltered a bit. “Karen, I think you’re misunderstanding—”

“No, I understand perfectly,” I said, eyes narrowing at Jake. “You’re using her. For her money, for this lifestyle. And that car — was that part of the deal too? Is this what you’ve been doing, Jake?”

Jake’s face darkened.

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” I shot back. “Because I can’t see anything else.”

Jake’s eyes flashed with anger, but behind it, I saw something else: hurt.

“I love Lydia, Mom,” he said. “Even if you find that hard to believe. I’m not going to argue with you about my relationship. We’ll speak later.”

And with that, he shut the door in my face.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

When Jake came home later, I was sitting in the dark, waiting. I didn’t turn the light on when he walked in.

“Mom, we need to talk,” he said quietly. He wasn’t angry anymore. Instead, he just sounded tired.

I took a deep breath. “You’re right. We do.”

He sat across from me, rubbing his hands together like he was trying to find the words. I didn’t make it easier for him.

A nervous man sitting on an armchair | Source: Midjourney

A nervous man sitting on an armchair | Source: Midjourney

“Lydia isn’t just some rich woman I’m using,” he said softly. “She’s been helping me. You know how hard I’ve worked on my art, but no one ever took me seriously. Except her. She pushed me to show my work and introduced me to people in the industry who saw what I could do.”

I blinked at him, the weight of his words slowly sinking in. “Jake…”

“I know I should’ve told you about her earlier, but I was scared,” he admitted, his voice cracking a little.

An emotional man | Source: Midjourney

An emotional man | Source: Midjourney

“You’ve been through so much, and I didn’t want you to think I was doing something shady. Lydia’s helped me get my first real exhibition. I’ve already sold enough to pay off your debts, Mom. All of it.”

I stared at him, unable to speak for a moment. “You… what?

“The money and the car didn’t come from anything illegal. It was from my art. Lydia helped me organize everything, and the exhibition is in two days. I’ve worked so hard for this, and I wanted to surprise you.”

An earnest man sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

An earnest man sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” I whispered.

Jake looked at me, and for the first time in a long while, I saw my little boy who always had big dreams, even when they seemed impossible.

Two days later, I walked into a gallery filled with people admiring Jake’s work. My son, who’d spent so many years lost in his art, was finally being seen for the talent he was.

During the event, Jake stood up to give a speech.

A person holding a microphone | Source: Pexels

A person holding a microphone | Source: Pexels

“Thank you all for coming. This night means everything to me. But I have to say, none of this would’ve happened without my mom. She’s the reason I kept going, even when things got tough. So, Mom, this is all for you.”

Jake smiled at me from the stage, and then, to my absolute shock, he held up the keys to the car. “I wanted to give you something to make life a little easier. You’ve earned it. Thank you, Mom.”

A happy woman at an art exhibition | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman at an art exhibition | Source: Midjourney

The room erupted into applause, but all I could do was cry. After years of struggle, we were finally going to be okay.

Here’s another story: When our daughter Sarah demanded a down payment for a house as her 18th birthday gift, we were stunned. Determined to teach her a valuable lesson, we gave her a fixer-upper instead. As Sarah dove into renovations, she faced unexpected challenges that transformed both the house and herself. 

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.

I Heard a Baby Crying from the Basement of Our New House – But We Don’t Have Any Children

My husband and I wanted to start a new life unburdened by our past struggles when we moved into a new house. But what we found instead were relentless sleepless nights plagued by an odd sound. I almost believed it was imaginary until I went on a nightly investigation and unraveled the truth.

When David and I bought the old Victorian house, it felt like the fresh start we desperately needed. After years of heartbreak, we wanted a home where we could rebuild our lives, just the two of us. Its wide porch, creaking floors, and towering turrets made me feel like I was stepping into a storybook. A place like this was supposed to be filled with peace and light. But sometimes, it’s the quiet places that hold the darkest secrets…

A Victorian house | Source: Midjourney

A Victorian house | Source: Midjourney

The first night I heard it, I was jolted awake by a sound I couldn’t identify. At first, I thought I was dreaming, but as I sat up in bed, straining to hear, it became clear: a baby was crying. The sharp, desperate wails carried through the stillness of the house, tugging at something deep inside me.

“David,” I whispered, nudging him. “Wake up.”

“Mmm, what is it?” he groaned, pulling the blanket higher.

“I think I hear a baby crying,” I said, my voice trembling. “Listen.”

A shocked woman lying awake | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman lying awake | Source: Midjourney

David sighed, turning onto his back.

“Ellen, we don’t have a baby. It’s probably just the wind or the old pipes. Houses like this make noise. Go back to sleep.”

His words were logical, but the sound had felt too real, too visceral. It lingered in my mind, even after it stopped. For hours, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering if I’d imagined it.

A confused woman lying awake | Source: Midjourney

A confused woman lying awake | Source: Midjourney

The next night, it happened again.

The cries started faintly but grew louder and more distinct, echoing through the house like a haunting melody. I sat up in bed, clutching the sheets, and waited for my husband to stir. He didn’t. Slowly, I slipped out of bed and padded toward the stairs, careful not to wake him.

The crying seemed to drift through the walls, leading me toward the basement door.

My hand hesitated on the doorknob…

A hand reaching for a doorknob | Source: Midjourney

A hand reaching for a doorknob | Source: Midjourney

The basement was still a mess of unpacked boxes and forgotten furniture. We’d barely been down there since moving in. I flicked on the light switch, but the single bulb hanging from the ceiling barely illuminated the space.

Shadows loomed large, and the air was damp and cold. The crying stopped suddenly as if cut off by an invisible hand. I stood frozen, listening to the silence. My heart raced as I backed away from the door and hurried upstairs, telling myself it was just a stray cat outside. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t.

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

Days turned into weeks, and the crying sounds became a nightly occurrence. My husband continued brushing it off, suggesting I was stressed from the move. But his dismissiveness only deepened my frustration.

By the end of the week, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“David,” I said one evening after I finally decided to confront him, setting my coffee mug down with a thud. “Something is wrong in this house. I know you don’t hear it, but I do. I swear I hear a baby crying! Every single night!”

An upset and concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset and concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

He sighed and folded the newspaper in his lap.

“Ellen, you’ve been under a lot of stress. Moving is hard, and this house is old. You’re probably just hearing the pipes or the wind.”

“It’s not the pipes!” I snapped. “Why won’t you believe me?”

His face softened, but I saw a flicker of something, perhaps guilt.

“I believe that you’re hearing something. But maybe it’s not…real. We’ve been through a lot, Ellen. Sometimes stress can play tricks on us. Maybe you should see someone, my love.”

A concerned man | Source: Midjourney

A concerned man | Source: Midjourney

His words stung, but more than that, they made me doubt myself. Was it all in my head? The thought terrified me. But his momentary expression stuck with me… there was something my husband wasn’t telling me.

That night, I decided to find out the truth. I waited until after David fell asleep before I grabbed a flashlight and crept downstairs. The crying started as I descended the stairs, louder than ever.

A woman holding a flashlight | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a flashlight | Source: Midjourney

My heart pounded as I scanned the basement with the flashlight beam, the shadows shifting with each movement. Then I saw it: a small, weathered door tucked behind a stack of boxes. My breath caught in my throat.

I’d never noticed the door before. It felt deliberately hidden. In the few weeks that we’d been there, I thought I already knew every inch of this new house, but I was wrong. My hands trembled as I pushed the boxes aside and reached for the rusted knob, not ready for what I was about to discover…

A woman moving boxes in a basement | Source: Midjourney

A woman moving boxes in a basement | Source: Midjourney

Inside, a young woman sat on a tattered mattress, clutching a baby to her chest. Her wide, tear-streaked eyes met mine, and she shrank back as if to shield the baby from me.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I balanced myself after suddenly feeling faint. “What are you doing here?”

Before she could answer, I heard footsteps on the stairs. I turned to see my husband, his face pale and drawn.

“Ellen, wait!” he called out, his voice urgent.

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

“David,” I said, stepping aside so he could see the woman and the baby. “What is going on? Who is she? Why is she in our basement?”

My husband hesitated, his gaze flickering between me and the woman. Finally, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I can explain,” he said, his voice heavy.

“Then start explaining,” I demanded. “Now!”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

David nodded toward the woman.

“Her name is Esther,” he said. “She’s nineteen. I found her a few weeks ago, outside the grocery store. She was sitting on a bench with her baby, crying. It was freezing, Ellen. She looked like she hadn’t eaten in days. I couldn’t just leave her there.”

I glanced back at Esther. Her face was pale, her cheeks hollow, and the baby in her arms whimpered softly. My heart ached, but anger surged to the surface.

A teenager holding a child | Source: Midjourney

A teenager holding a child | Source: Midjourney

“You brought her here?” I asked, my voice trembling. “And hid her from me?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he admitted, his shoulders slumping. “After everything we’ve been through, I thought it might be too much for you.”

His words hit me like a punch to the chest. Everything we’d been through, I knew he meant all the years of trying and failing to have a child. The truth is, I almost always fainted whenever I saw small children.

A therapist I once saw said it was a traumatic response to never having children of my own, so I could understand my husband’s reluctance to expose me to Esther and her son.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

I recalled the endless doctor’s appointments, the hopes raised and dashed again. The quiet grief that had become part of our lives. I thought I’d buried that pain, but now it felt raw and exposed.

Esther’s voice broke through my thoughts.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “I never wanted to cause trouble. Your husband saved us. I…I don’t know what we would’ve done without him.”

An emotional teenager | Source: Midjourney

An emotional teenager | Source: Midjourney

“I know I didn’t think this through, my love. I thought if I could keep feeding her whenever you were away, she would become strong enough to move out and find shelter elsewhere,” my husband explained.

I looked at her, at the baby in her arms, and saw not an intruder but a frightened girl who needed help. Slowly, I knelt in front of her.

“What’s his name?” I asked gently.

“Samuel,” she whispered.

An emotional teenager with a baby | Source: Midjourney

An emotional teenager with a baby | Source: Midjourney

That night, we brought Esther and Samuel upstairs. I decided to focus on our guests and figured I’d deal with David’s lies, gaslighting, and betrayal in private. I knew his intentions were good, but the way he went about things, even suggesting I get therapy, was not something I was willing to forgive easily.

So over steaming mugs of tea, Esther told us her story. Her parents had kicked her out of the house when they discovered she was pregnant. The baby’s father had disappeared, leaving her with nothing. She’d been living on the streets, sleeping in parks and bus shelters, when David found her.

A teenager having tea | Source: Midjourney

A teenager having tea | Source: Midjourney

In the weeks that followed, Esther became part of our lives. At first, it was awkward and uncomfortable having a stranger in the house, but Samuel was such a welcome guest that we quickly warmed up to him and his mother.

The house that had once been silent now buzzed with the sounds of a baby’s cries and laughter. I even taught Esther how to cook simple meals and care for herself, and she taught me how to be around and cradle a baby without fainting and feeling the ache of what I’d lost.

A happy woman cradling a baby | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman cradling a baby | Source: Midjourney

One evening, as we sat in the living room, Samuel asleep in my lap, Esther turned to me with tears in her eyes.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she said. “You’ve given us so much.”

“You don’t need to thank us,” I replied, my voice warm. “You’re family now.”

For the first time in years, our house felt alive! The crying that had once haunted me was replaced with laughter and love. And though it wasn’t the family I had imagined, it was the family I never knew I needed!

A happy woman with a baby | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman with a baby | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed that story, then the following one should have you on the edge of your seat. In it, Emily’s daughter exposed a secret her father was keeping from her mother, leading to a shocking truth.

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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