Cashier Learns She Owns a $3.8M Business after Finding Will in Her Name — Story of the Day

An unusual letter provides the catalyst for one woman to uncover a secret kept from her for years, and receive unexpected wealth.

Gregory locked the door to the small corner shop where he’d worked as a cashier for the last twenty years. His coat was too old and thin to keep the chill from his bones as he walked home, but he smiled nonetheless. It had been another great day at work.

Gregory’s wife had never understood how he found satisfaction in what she called a low-level job. She’d left him because she felt he lacked ambition, but he still had his daughter.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Linda was standing in the foyer of the apartment block where she and Gregory lived when he entered the building. She had also recently started working as a cashier and still wore her uniform. In one hand, she held a letter.

“What have you got there, Linda?” Gregory asked as he approached her.

Linda looked up, startled. “You tell me, Dad. I’m too scared to open it.”

Gregory frowned and took the letter from his daughter. The name of a legal practice was printed on the envelope.

“Why would a lawyer be contacting me?”

Gregory shrugged. He tore the envelope open and studied the papers inside. His jaw dropped, and his fingers began shaking as he read.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“It’s… strange. According to this letter, somebody has left you a business comprising three restaurants, and it’s worth nearly four million dollars.”

“What!” Linda snatched the letter from Gregory’s hands. “It’s got to be a scam.”

“I did this to find out whether you’re a good person.”

“There’s an easy way to find out.” Gregory leaned over to indicate the lawyer’s phone number on the letterhead.

Linda called the lawyer and arranged a meeting for the next day. Gregory accompanied her.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“This has got to be a mistake,” Linda told the lawyer when they entered his office.

“I don’t know anyone who would leave me a business.”

The lawyer shook his head. “There’s no mistake, Miss. My client, Matthew Markham, was very particular in his instructions.”

Gregory felt as though he’d been electrocuted. “Please, say that name again.”

“Matthew Markham.”

Gregory understood everything then. He hung his head and burst into tears.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A few months earlier…

Matthew shivered with anxiety as he approached the cashier. He set down the packet of gum and stared at the man who rang it up. The nametag on his chest said ‘Gregory.’ He was the right man.

“Sir? Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Matthew realized he’d zoned out and handed the cashier a five-dollar bill. “But I do need to talk to you. It’s about Linda.”

The man looked up sharply at the customer who had just uttered his little daughter’s name. “Is she in some kind of trouble?”

Matthew shook his head. “Do you have a few minutes, please?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Matthew and Gregory arranged to meet at a diner nearby during Gregory’s lunch break. While Matthew waited, he thought over the revelations that had brought him to this point.

A few days earlier, he’d been discussing his terminal illness with a close friend, Jeremy, and lamenting that he had no heirs to whom he could leave his restaurant business.

Then Jeremy dropped a bombshell on him: Matthew had a daughter he didn’t know about. His ex-girlfriend had died in childbirth, and the baby was placed up for adoption.

Matthew immediately hired a detective to track her down. Days later, he was finally sitting down with Gregory, the man who’d adopted his daughter.

Matthew explained to Gregory that he was Linda’s biological father and then asked the question that was foremost in his mind:

“Does Linda know she was adopted?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“No, and you can’t tell her, sir.” Gregory looked at him pleadingly. “My wife left me a couple of months back, and I can’t lose Linda too. Please, don’t take her from me.”

Matthew was torn. He wanted to know his daughter but didn’t want to cause problems for the man who’d raised her. He also didn’t want to upset his daughter’s life by introducing himself when he only had a few months more to live.

“What is she like?” Matthew asked. “Is she a good person?”

Gregory smiled. “She’s an amazing person. She’s kind and treats everyone equally.”

Matthew nodded. He was starting to get an idea.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The next day, Matthew disguised himself as a poor man and went to the store where Linda worked as a cashier. He took a few essential food items to her checkout and waited while she rang them up.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” he said once she told him the cost.

“I can’t afford all of that. I’ve only got ten dollars.”

“Don’t worry about it, sir.” Linda smiled at him. “I’ll cover the rest.”

Matthew left the store and returned a week later. This time, he wore his finest suit. He chose several of the most expensive items in the store and again went to Linda’s checkout.

“Get out of the way,” Matthew shouted as he pushed his way to the front of the queue. “I’m in a hurry and need to be served fast.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

He set his purchases down in front of Linda and waved his hands at her. “Hurry up, girl, I’ve got an important meeting to attend.”

“Then you’ll have to tell them you’re going to be delayed.” Linda pushed his purchases aside and gestured to the woman behind him. “You’re next, ma’am.”

“I need to be served first!” Matthew exclaimed.

“That’s too bad, sir. I don’t allow anyone to push to the front of the queue, no matter how important you think you are.”

Matthew grinned from ear to ear. “I’m glad you said that.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He reached for a bouquet of yellow lilies and placed the cash to pay for them on the counter. “These are for you, Linda. My name is Matthew, and I did this to find out whether you’re a good person.”

“Do me one favor, please, and remember my name when you see these lilies.”

Present day…

“Matthew is the name of your biological father, Linda,” Gregory said. “You’re adopted.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

“I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to feel bad about it. Then your mother left, and I was afraid you’d leave me too if you knew I wasn’t your real father.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Linda hugged him. “I’d never do that, dad.”

The lawyer cleared his throat. “As I was saying, my client bequeathed his three restaurants to you, his sole heir, when he passed away a month ago. These restaurants are each worth over a million dollars.”

“Mr. Markham also had a special request. He wanted me to give you something.”

The lawyer left the room and soon returned with a bouquet of yellow lilies, which he presented to Linda.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Linda cradled the flowers in her arms. “I understand now.” She turned to Gregory. “He came into my shop once and asked that I remember his name when I see yellow lilies.”

Gregory placed a hand on Linda’s shoulder. “I’m sure he was very proud of you, Linda, and will continue to be proud of you from heaven.”

What can we learn from this story?

Treat people equally, and you will be rewarded. Matthew was encouraged to leave his business to Linda when he saw that she was a good person.

One can find happiness in a simple life. Gregory and Linda were both happy to work as cashiers and earn an honest living.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who discovers the house she’s been cleaning for the past ten years belongs to her.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

I Found Another Woman’s Hair in My Bed — I Was Shocked to the Core When I Learned Whose It Really Was

When I got home from work, I found long blonde hair strands in my bed. The thing is, I have dark curly hair and live alone, with my boyfriend occasionally crashing over. Curious and unsettled, I checked the building’s CCTV footage and was shaken to the core when I learned whose blonde hair it was.

Ugh, Thursdays. They always drag on forever. And that evening was no different.

I practically crawled through the door after a brutal day of data entry, my brain fried and my feet screaming. All I wanted was a steaming mug of ginger tea and a good Netflix binge.

Slipping into my PJs, I pulled the covers back on autopilot. But then I froze. Right there, smack dab in the center of my white pillow, a single, glaring strand of blonde hair lay accusingly…

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

My heart did a double take, then plummeted to my stomach. My hair? Dark brunette, almost black, the kind that disappears against a black sweater.

This? This was sunshine blonde, the kind that practically glowed under the dim light of my bedroom lamp.

Panic clawed at my throat. I live alone. Completely. Utterly. Alone. So where the heck did this come from?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Suddenly, a million questions swarmed my head… a tangled mess of “whys” and “hows.”

Was there someone in my apartment? Had there been a break-in? Or worse… was there someone I didn’t know? Someone who shouldn’t have been here, sharing my bed?

I glanced at the hair again, feeling more puzzled than ever. I needed answers.

“Who could it be?” I muttered to myself, my mind racing with possibilities as I stared at my bed.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Alright, so maybe one blonde hair wasn’t a big deal. I thought maybe it could’ve snagged on something, but then… there were more. Like, creepy amounts scattered across my bed like tiny blonde soldiers.

This was officially WEIRD.

“Mission: Mystery Hair” began with questioning my boyfriend, Shawn, who occasionally crashes at my place. I presented him with the evidence: a clump of blonde strands on display like a crime scene photo.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Yo Boo Bear,” I said, holding up the hair CSI style. “What’s this all about?”

Shawn’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Whose are those?!”

“That’s the million dollar question, babe,” I said, my voice maybe a smidge shaky. “You know anyone with questionable blonde highlights?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He furrowed his brow, looking like a betrayed puppy. “What the hell? Are you seriously accusing me of bringing someone over here, Evie?”

Ugh, no! That’s not what I meant AT ALL and stammered, “No, no, of course not! But these hairs didn’t magically appear during a blonde fairy convention, you know! Just trying to figure things out.”

Shawn crossed his arms, looking like a thunderstorm was brewing. “So you DO think I’m cheating? Seriously??”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Ugh, baby, NO! It’s about the freaking hair, not some big betrayal narrative!” I tried to keep it cool, but I swear my voice was doing that high-pitched dolphin thing.

He scoffed. “Sounds like you trust me about as much as a fly-by-night politician. Maybe I should just bounce if that’s how you feel.”

And BOOM! There it goes. Nuclear meltdown engaged. “Hold up, Shawn! Don’t go all nuclear just yet!” I ran after him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Wait a minute,” I pleaded, trying to defuse the situation faster than a bomb squad. “These sheets were fresh outta the dryer this morning, and my girlfriends haven’t darkened my doorstep in ages.”

Shawn threw his hands up like, “What am I supposed to do with this?!”

“So what, Evie?” he barked. “You think I’m sneaking some secret lady friend in here while you’re at work? Come on, that’s crazy talk.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Shucks, NO. Not what I was saying! “No, no, not at all! Just…these hairs didn’t materialize out of thin air, you know? Trying to get some logic here,” I reasoned.

But Shawn’s face had gone full on an ice cube tray.

“Alright, you know what?” he sighed. “I see where this is going.” He dug into his pocket and yanked out my spare key like a magician revealing a dove. “Here, take these. I ain’t setting foot back in here until you trust me again.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Before I could sputter out a protest, he stormed out, slamming the door like a dramatic movie exit.

I raced to the hallway, spare keys clutched in my hand, but by the time I reached the elevator doors, Shawn already vanished.

Defeated and totally bummed, I stood there feeling like a kicked puppy.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

This can’t be the end, right? There had to be a reason for the rogue blonde strands, and I wasn’t giving up that easily. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Time to Sherlock Holmes this situation.

“Alright, Operation: Mystery Hair, Phase Two!” I muttered to myself.

Being nice to the building manager, Mr. Hills, finally paid off. A little friendly persuasion later, and I was staring at security footage the guard played, my heart hammering in my chest.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Freepik

For illustration purposes only | Source: Freepik

Every second I expected to see Shawn sneaking in some blonde bombshell. But what I saw next threw me for a loop.

A woman. With long, blonde hair. A MAINTENANCE WORKER, to be exact, casually strolling into my apartment during the day.

Whaaaat? Confused and mind blown, I turned to Mr. Hills and blurted out, “Mr. Hills… who is that?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Mr. Hills peered intently at the footage. “Ah, that’s Vanessa,” he said, finally recognizing the blonde mystery woman. “One of our newer maintenance workers. You did have a scheduled maintenance appointment for your unit today, if I recall correctly.”

My eyes widened like saucers. “Scheduled maintenance? Hold up, no one told me about any maintenance!”

Mr. Hills sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you’re right there. That’s a total protocol violation. She absolutely should’ve given you a heads-up.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Freepik

For illustration purposes only | Source: Freepik

Livid doesn’t even begin to cover it. Vanessa was about to get a serious earful.

The next day, I practically stalked back to my apartment. And lo and behold, there she was – Vanessa, lingering in the hallway. This time, I wasn’t holding back.

“Hey, lady!” I boomed, channeling my inner drill sergeant. “What in the world were you doing in my apartment yesterday without a word? Scheduled maintenance or not, you can’t just waltz in like you own the place!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Vanessa’s face drained of color faster than a dropped phone case. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

Before I could unleash another verbal missile, she completely broke down, tears flowing freely. Sniffling and wiping her nose, she finally confessed.

“Ms. Hart, I’m so sorry,” she choked out. “They made me do it! Mr. Fraser, my creepy supervisor, he’s running some shady surveillance operation.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

My jaw practically hit the floor. “Surveillance operation? Like, spying on tenants?” I gasped.

Vanessa nodded, wiping away fresh tears. “He made me install hidden cameras and listening devices in people’s apartments! He threatened to fire me if I didn’t do it!”

A cold dread crept down my spine. “Oh my gosh, so he’s been spying on everyone? But for what??” This was snowballing way out of control.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Vanessa’s voice trembled as she confessed, “He uses that information to blackmail tenants and for other creepy stuff. This is messed up!”

Furious doesn’t even cut it. This Mr. Fraser guy needed to be exposed ASAP. “We can’t let him get away with this!” I declared through gritted teeth.

Seeing how scared Vanessa was, I ushered her into my apartment. She was practically vibrating with stress, poor girl. Once inside, she unloaded even more info.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Ms. Hart, I was so desperate,” she whispered. “But I finally have a way out. Been waiting for the perfect moment, and this is it.”

She whipped out her phone, and my eyes nearly bugged out of my head.

A video. Mr. Fraser, in all his creepy glory, laying out his illegal surveillance scheme and basically admitting to everything. My jaw practically reached the floorboards.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“And that’s not all!” Vanessa continued. “I kept copies of the logs every single time, every apartment I was forced to bug. Proof I was just following orders from Psycho Pete over there.”

Relief washed over me, mixed with a healthy dose of “let’s take this jerk down” determination. “Vanessa, this is gold! This is exactly what we need to nail him good.”

Then, it hit me. The blonde hair.

“Wait a minute,” I exclaimed, confused. “How did your hair end up in my bed?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Vanessa flushed a bright red, looking like she wanted to crawl under the rug.

“Alright, so during one of these ‘install the hidden camera of doom’ missions,” she stammered, “I heard someone coming and had to hide, like, NOW. Ended up diving into your bedroom, and… well, let’s just say I might have used your bed as a human shield for a hot second. Stress makes my hair fall out like crazy, so…” she trailed off sheepishly.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

This whole thing was straight-up bananas. So, the million-dollar question burning a hole in my mind: “Why didn’t you just take this evidence to the cops or tell Mr. Hills about Psycho Pete in the first place?”

Vanessa let out a defeated sigh. “Mr. Fraser’s a master manipulator,” she explained. “He knows how to play the innocent card like nobody’s business. I kept the evidence hidden, just in case things got hairy.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Yeah, hairy indeed. But you know what? She wasn’t wrong. This whole situation had been stressing her out like crazy, and I could tell it was a huge weight off her shoulders to finally come clean.

“Hey, Vanessa,” I reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing. Now, let’s get all this evidence together and march down to the police station. They’ll put a stop to Mr. Fraser’s little spy game, fast.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For the next few hours, it was Operation: Evidence Roundup. Video footage, those creepy logs, and every detail Vanessa could remember about her interactions with Mr. Fraser, we compiled it all.

At the police station that very evening, we laid it all out.

The officers listened intently, expressions growing grimmer by the second with every piece of evidence we presented. An investigation was launched faster than you can say “illegal surveillance.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Let me tell you, the following weeks were wild. Turns out, Mr. Fraser’s operation was way bigger than a two-bit apartment scheme.

There were other employees involved, a whole tangled web of corruption! Thankfully, the evidence Vanessa risked everything to collect helped the authorities unravel the entire mess.

Eventually, Vanessa walked away scot-free. The tenants’ association even nominated me for an award for helping expose this whole thing! Who knew a few strands of stray blonde hair could lead down such a crazy rabbit hole?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Here’s the thing, though: I totally dropped the ball with Shawn. Jumping to conclusions wasn’t exactly my finest moment.

The stress got the better of me, and hindsight is 20/20, right? Looking back, I wish things could have been different, but hey, you learn from your mistakes.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

But in the end, this whole ordeal gave me a new appreciation for my gut instincts. Sure, I may have been wrong about Shawn, but trusting my instincts enough to see something fishy was going on? Turns out, that was the right call.

Plus, I gained a new friend in Vanessa (seriously, the coolest maintenance worker ever!), earned the trust of my neighbors, and helped shut down a criminal operation. Not a bad haul, right?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

So yeah, that’s my wild story. A rollercoaster of emotions, a messy breakup (oops!), and enough drama to fill a daytime soap opera.

But hey, at least I can move forward knowing I did the right thing. Now, onto bigger and better things! Maybe even patching things up with Shawn… that is, if he’ll ever take my calls again.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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