The moment I saw my brother cruising around in a shiny red convertible, I knew something was off. Little did I know, that car held the key to a betrayal I never saw coming — and a plan Gran had set in motion long before she was gone.
My name is Juniper. I’m 26 now, and I’ve been living out of state for four years. Honestly, it was the best decision I ever made: to get away from my family and from all the hurt that came with it.
It wasn’t like I ever felt a part of them. My parents had always favored my older brother, Maverick. You could say he was the golden child, but that doesn’t even cover it. Growing up, I was just… there. The “spare,” as Gran used to joke, though there was always a tenderness in her voice when she said it.
That’s part of why I left. Well, that, and Noel — my boyfriend. He convinced me it was time to live for myself, to create something outside the shadows of my family.
We packed up our little car, and I moved with him to the city, away from my parents, Maverick, and all the memories.
“Noel, I swear, I just couldn’t stay there anymore,” I had told him over dinner once. I still remember the way he’d smiled at me from across the table, his hand reaching out to grab mine.
“You don’t need to explain it to me again, June. You did the right thing,” he had reassured me, squeezing my hand. “You deserve more than being the second choice.”
Even after four years away, I barely spoke to my family. Calls came less frequently, texts became a rare formality. My parents? They didn’t seem to mind, honestly. It was like I had just faded out of their lives. The only one who stayed in touch was Gran.
She was the one person in my family who made me feel like I mattered. When I was younger, she’d sneak me chocolate bars when my mom wasn’t looking, or call me on the phone late at night just to hear how my day went.
Gran didn’t care if it was boring or if I felt like my life was a mess. She just listened.
And then, one day, I found out she died. Accidentally. No call, no message, nothing. Can you believe that? I was scrolling through Facebook, of all places, and saw a post from an old family friend. Gran’s picture. A date and a “Rest in Peace” note.
I couldn’t breathe. I stared at my phone, waiting for things to make sense, but they didn’t. My heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest.
I dropped my phone on the table, stood up, and muttered, “Gran’s gone.”
Noel looked up from the couch. “What? What do you mean she’s gone?”
“She died. No one even told me.” I could feel the burn of tears, but it was more than sadness; it was anger and perhaps betrayal. “How could they not tell me?”
Noel was up in a second, pulling me into a hug, but it didn’t make any sense. Why hadn’t my parents called me? Even Maverick. Nothing.
I booked a flight back home that same night.
I didn’t care what it took — I had to visit Gran’s grave. I had to say goodbye, at least on my own terms. The next morning, I found myself walking through my hometown, the place I hadn’t seen in years, the place I had fought so hard to escape. Everything was as I remembered, except one thing.
I blinked, stunned. “The… what?”
As I stood at the corner of the street near the cemetery, I spotted something that made my blood run cold. My brother, Maverick, cruising by in a shiny red convertible.
Maverick? The one who still worked as a cashier, who could barely make ends meet? He was driving a red convertible that looked like it cost more than his entire life savings.
My stomach churned. Something wasn’t right.
Later that day, I found myself standing by Gran’s grave, the soft rustle of the trees the only sound around. The earth was still fresh, and I couldn’t shake the knot in my stomach. Gran was really gone. I hadn’t been able to say goodbye properly: no chance to tell her how much she meant to me.
The pain of finding out about her death through a Facebook post still stung like an open wound.
As I knelt beside the grave, I heard footsteps approaching. I looked up to see Mr. Anderson, Gran’s best friend. He was a kind, older man, always hovering around Gran, helping her with anything she needed. His face was somber as he approached.
“Juniper, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, standing beside me. “Your Gran… she was a one-of-a-kind lady.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “She really was. I just wish I had more time with her.”
He nodded, his eyes distant. Then, after a moment of silence, he turned to me and asked, “Did you get the $20,000 she left you?”
I blinked, stunned. “The… what?”
Mr. Anderson’s brow furrowed. “Your Gran. She mentioned in her will that she set aside $20,000 for you. I just assumed you knew.”
My heart dropped. Suddenly, the red convertible Maverick was driving made all the sense in the world. The anger that had been simmering inside me boiled over. “No,” I muttered, standing up, fists clenched at my sides. “I didn’t know.”
Mr. Anderson’s face paled. “Oh, Juniper, I’m so sorry.”
But I wasn’t listening anymore. I had to get to Maverick’s trailer. Now.
I stormed back to my car, my mind racing. Maverick, who could never hold down a steady job, was suddenly driving around in a flashy car, and I hadn’t thought twice about it? Of course, it was my money. The money Gran left me — the one person in my family who actually cared about me — and he stole it without a second thought.
When I pulled up to Maverick’s trailer, I was ready for a full-blown confrontation. But what I saw stopped me in my tracks. There, crumpled in the driveway, was the red convertible, completely wrecked. The front bumper was smashed, the windshield shattered, and the tires looked flat, like the car had been in a serious accident.
And there, standing in the doorway of his beat-up trailer, was Maverick. He was leaning on crutches, a cast covering his leg, and his face was bruised, a mess of cuts and scrapes.
Karma had already caught up with him.
I walked up to him, my anger momentarily replaced by shock. “Maverick, what the hell happened?”
He shifted uncomfortably on his crutches, his eyes darting away from mine. “It’s… it’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” I gestured at the totaled car. “That doesn’t look like nothing. What did you do? And why did you take Gran’s money, Maverick?”
He winced, knowing he couldn’t avoid it any longer. “I didn’t mean for it to go like this, Juniper. I… I just thought I’d borrow it. I was gonna pay you back. But then I saw that car, and…”
“Borrow it?” I was incredulous. “You don’t just ‘borrow’ twenty thousand dollars that wasn’t left to you. Gran left that money for me, and you took it like it was nothing. And now look at you. This is karma, Maverick. This is what you deserve.”
Maverick opened his mouth to protest, but I wasn’t finished. “You’ve always taken everything. My parents’ attention, their affection: everything was always about you. But this? This was different. This was from Gran, the one person who actually gave a damn about me, and you stole it.”
Maverick hung his head. “I messed up, okay? I thought—”
“You thought what?” I snapped. “That I wouldn’t find out? That I didn’t deserve what Gran left me?”
He didn’t have an answer. We stood there in silence, the weight of everything hanging in the air. Then, just as I was about to turn and leave, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Mr. Clearwater, Gran’s lawyer.
“Mr. Clearwater?” I answered, keeping my eyes on Maverick.
“Juniper, I’ve been going over your grandmother’s will,” Mr. Clearwater said. His voice was calm and steady, as though he knew I needed some reassurance. “There’s something you should know. Your grandmother predicted this might happen.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
“She knew Maverick might try to take the money, so she had a plan in place. The $20,000 was only a part of her estate. The rest of it — her house, her savings, her investments — it’s all yours, Juniper. She left everything to you.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Everything?”
“Yes, everything,” Mr. Clearwater confirmed. “Your grandmother was very clear. She wanted to ensure you were taken care of, so you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone.”
Tears pricked at my eyes, but they weren’t just from sadness. Gran had known. She saw this coming, every bit of it, and she had protected me in the way only she could. Even in death, she was still looking out for me: still showing me that I mattered.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I looked at Maverick. “I hope that convertible was worth it, Maverick. I hope you enjoyed the ride.”
“Juniper, I—” he started, his voice shaky.
I held up my hand, cutting him off. “Don’t. I’m done with excuses, Maverick. Just save it.”
Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, broken in more ways than one. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like the forgotten sibling. Gran had made sure of that.
If this story touched your heart, take a look at another exciting read: When my grandmother asked us to come to her place to celebrate her birthday, I didn’t expect my family to do what they did! Grandma was hurt by their actions, and I wasn’t willing to let my family go unpunished. So I came up with a plan that put them in their place!
Science Shows That Women Sleep Better Next To Dogs Than Men
The importance of sleep for one’s health should go without saying. The ideal approach to obtain restful sleep is a topic of great interest to a large number of researchers. But forget about meditating before bed and drinking chamomile tea. It has been found that women sleep better when their dogs are nearby. That’s correct, a study by Canisius College in New York State revealed that dogs make more comfortable sleeping companions than either people or cats.
Christy Hoffman, Ph.D., an animal behaviorist and the study’s chief researcher, said, “We found that women commonly rate dogs as better bed partners than cats and human partners and report that their dogs enhance their sleep quality.”
According to Research, Women Sleep Better Next to Dogs
Hoffman arrived at these conclusions after surveying almost a thousand American women. According to the findings, 31% of the participants and 55% of the participants shared a bed with a cat or a dog. Moreover, 57% of these ladies slept in the same bed as a human companion, compared to the other 40%.[1]
Hoffman also found out why dogs appeared to be the most comfortable bedmates.The first explanation is that dogs’ sleeping habits more closely reflect human sleep patterns than those of cats.
Hoffman stated, “It is not surprising that dogs and cats have different sleep schedules because dogs’ major sleep periods tend to coincide more closely with humans’ than do cats’.”
Even though these similar sleeping habits might have advantages, additional research is necessary to be certain. However, Hoffman has some ideas about how this might function.
She said, “Dogs may be better at accommodating their human’s sleep schedule than human bed partners.” Human bed companions frequently go to sleep and wake up at significantly different times from one another. Sleep disruption is undoubtedly a result of schedule discrepancies between spouses. It’s possible that canine bed companions adjust to their owner’s schedule more easily than do human bed partners.
Dogs also need specific routines and obligations, like an early morning stroll. These kinds of regimens support their users in sticking to a schedule, which enhances the quality of their sleep.
Calm and Safety
Dogs also have a tendency to remain rigid during sleep. Anyone who has ever shared a bed with a fidgety partner understands how annoying they can be. Nonetheless, the study’s female participants stated that, in contrast to cats, who tended to come and go, their dogs spent the most of the night on the bed.
This implies that cats might be more prone than dogs to disturb sleep by getting in and out of bed at different times. Furthermore, Hoffman stated, “We discovered that dog owners tended to go to bed and wake up earlier than cat owners and also adhered to more regular bedtime and wake time schedules.”
The third and most crucial reason is that dogs provide their owners a sense of security.more so than in relationships with humans or even cats.
“Some dog owners may find solace in the knowledge that their pet will notify them in the event of an intruder or other emergency; also, a dog’s barking may dissuade a possible invader. Hoffman stated that whereas a dog may offer psychological consolation, a cat is less likely to assume this function.
The Ideal Sleep Partner
Dogs are the ideal sleeping companions, according to the study, although their advantages vary depending on the situation.A dog might, for instance, snore or overheat the bed. Furthermore, a lot of owners report that their cats aid in their ability to go asleep.
Remember that the study relied on the volunteers’ perceptions of the effects of their pets on the quantity and quality of their sleep. Therefore, further impartial study is required before it can be said with certainty that dogs make better sleeping companions. Nonetheless, Hoffman thinks that since pets are common in American homes, these research might be helpful.
“This line of research will be valuable to develop a clearer picture of the contexts under which co-sleeping with a pet may be detrimental to one’s sleep quality, and the contexts under which pets and their presence in their owner’s bed may positively impact sleep quality,” the spokesperson stated.
For example, studies have indicated that women sleep better on their alone than in the company of a human, but many people hold the opposite view. In the future, scientists may employ Fitbit-like gadgets to measure people’s sleep quality objectively under various sleeping scenarios.
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