Doctor Spellman adopted and raised his sister’s triplets after she passed away during childbirth. But five years later, his life was turned upside down when the triplets’ bio father showed up to reclaim the children.
“Breathe, breathe. It’s all going to be okay,” Thomas gently told his sister, marching alongside her while she was being carried to the operation room on a gurney.
Leah’s sweaty brows furrowed as she tried to take a deep breath. “You’re… You’re the best older brother I could ask God for, Thomas,” she whispered as they entered the OR.
Leah had gone into labor at only 36 weeks of pregnancy, and the doctors had suggested performing a C-section. But soon after delivering the first baby, Leah’s pulse began dropping, and her condition worsened…
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Leah, please stay with me! Nurse, what’s happening? Look at me, Leah! Look at me,” Thomas cried, his palms wrapped around his sister’s hand.
“Doctor Spellman, you need to leave, please,” Dr. Nichols said, escorting him outside. Then the doors of the OR were slammed shut.
Thomas sank onto one of the chairs in the waiting area, his tears not stopping. He could still smell his sister’s scent on his palms. He buried his face in his hands, hoping it would all be fine soon.
But when a doctor’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he could tell something was not right. “Doctor…how…how’s Leah?” he asked, jumping to his feet.
“We’re sorry, Thomas,” Dr. Nichols said remorsefully. “We tried our best, but we couldn’t stop the bleeding. The children are safe and have been placed in the NICU.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Thomas sank back onto the chair, unable to process the news of his sister’s death. Leah had been so excited to hold her little angels, cradle them, and give them only the best. How could God be so cruel and take her away so soon?
What am I going to do now?” Thomas thought disappointedly when a voice boomed in the hallway. “Where the hell is she?! She thought she could deliver the kids, and I wouldn’t know?”
Thomas’s rage knew no bounds when he saw his sister’s ex-boyfriend, Joe, storming into the hospital. “Where is your sister?” Joe growled.
Thomas grabbed the man’s collar and pinned him to the wall. “Now you’re interested in where she is, huh? Where were you when she spent a night on the streets because of a lowlife like you? And where were you, Joe, when she collapsed four hours ago? She’s dead! My sister…she didn’t even survive to see her kids!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Where are my children? I want to see them!” Joe screamed, yanking away Thomas’s arms.
“Don’t you even dare talk about them, Joe! Get out of my hospital, or I will call security!” Thomas warned him. “OUT!”
“I’m leaving now, but I’m going to get my children back, Thomas! You can’t take them away from me,” Joe shot back as he disappeared away from the hallway.
For the sake of his three little nephews, Thomas decided he couldn’t just sit and mourn his sister’s loss. He was all his nephews had, and he would do anything to ensure the children didn’t grow up under their alcoholic father’s care. So Thomas decided to adopt the triplets, and he fought for their custody in court.
“This is unfair, your honor!” Joe screamed on the witness stand, shedding fake tears. “I am the kids’ father. How would I survive without those little lives? They are Leah’s flesh and blood, MY flesh and blood, and they are all I have now!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Let me get something clear,” the judge told Joe. “You were not married to the children’s mother, Leah, nor did you support her financially while she was pregnant. Is that right?”
“Well, you’re not wrong, your Honor,” Joe sighed, lowering his head. “I work as a handyman and take up small gigs. I couldn’t afford to support her, and that’s the reason why we didn’t get married.”
“Pardon me, your honor, but my client has text messages and voice notes from his sister where she clearly states that Mr. Dawson is a heavy drinker,” said Thomas’s lawyer. “And she refused to marry him unless he entered a rehabilitation program.” The lawyer presented the evidence in court, convincing the judge that Joe was not fit to raise the children, and the court decided in favor of Thomas.
As Thomas walked out of the courtroom, he looked up at the bright skies, remembering his sister. “I had promised you I would do my best to help you. I hope I didn’t disappoint you, Leah,” he whispered with teary eyes.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Right then, Joe stormed out of the court and grabbed Thomas’s arm. “I’m the real father of the children, and I’m going to fight for them, Thomas. Don’t be too proud that you’ve won for now.”
Thomas pulled his arm from Joe’s grasp and glared at him. “That’s exactly why you’re not fit to become their father, Joe! You shouldn’t fight for the children but for the children’s sake!”
When Thomas returned home from the court, satisfied that Leah’s kids were safe with him, he saw his wife packing her bags.
“What’s going on, Susannah?” he asked, bewildered. “What’s with all the packing at this time?”
“I’m sorry, Thomas,” she huffed, zipping the last bag. “I’m not even sure if I want children at all, and here you have three at once. You won the case, didn’t you? Well, I thought it over, but I don’t think I want to spend the next few years of my life changing diapers. I didn’t sign up for this when I married you, Thomas. Sorry.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
And then Susannah was gone. Thomas looked around the house, and he still couldn’t believe he was left all alone to care for his nephews. He pulled out a bottle from the wine rack in frustration, but just as he tossed away the cork, his gaze was drawn to the screensaver on his phone.
His three little nephews were waiting for him. He couldn’t just drown in his sorrows and leave them to their fates.
“I promised Leah I would give them a good life. I can’t do this!” He returned the wine bottle to the rack and walked away.
Time flew by, and the triplets, Jayden, Noah, and Andy, were raised in the love and care of Thomas. Whether it was cleaning the boys’ poopy diapers or lulling them to sleep with his tragically unmelodic voice, Thomas loved each moment he spent with his nephews.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
But their care also took a toll on his physical and mental health, and one day, Thomas collapsed at work. He dismissed it as a lack of sleep and left to pick up his nephews from kindergarten.
But as he arrived home, the sight of the man across from his house sent shivers down his spine. Joe stood there on the sidewalk, in front of Thomas’s house, after five long years.
“Kids, get inside. I’m gonna join you soon, okay?” Thomas smiled as the kids went in.
Then he approached Joe. “What the hell are you doing here?!” he snarled. “Have you been stalking us all along?”
“I’m here to take back what’s mine, Thomas. I’m here for my children!” he admitted brazenly.
“Your children?” Thomas scoffed. “Where were you all those five years when I was raising them? They were never yours, to begin with, Joe. You walked out on them when they weren’t even born, and now you’ve returned to claim them? They’re no longer your children. Get lost!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
“You’re wrong, Thomas,” Joe said confidently. “I worked hard for those five years so I could be financially stable to look after my children. I told you I wouldn’t give up, and it’s time the children went home with their biological father!”
“Oh really?” Thomas challenged him. “I bet the new car you’re driving around will convince the judge otherwise. Don’t waste your time!”
Thomas was confident that Joe wouldn’t be able to take the kids back, but a few months later, he received a court summons. Thomas’s heart dropped as he read it, but he still mustered courage and appeared at the court.
During the hearing, Joe’s lawyer summoned Thomas to the witness stand. “It has recently come to our attention that Dr. Spellman is on a very specific regimen of prescription medications,” Joe’s lawyer said. “After consulting a medical specialist, I’ve come to—”
“Objection, your honor!” Thomas’s lawyer cried, jumping to his feet.
“I will allow it since the guardian’s health directly impacts these proceedings,” the judge said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Thank you, your honor,” Joe’s lawyer continued, turning to face Thomas. “Is it true, Dr. Spellman, that you were diagnosed with a brain tumor, and the doctors can’t guarantee how long you will live? And that this particular combination of medications is used to treat a brain tumor?”
Thomas hung his head as he said, “Yes.” He was indeed diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor months ago and was taking medications to shrink the size and prevent seizures.
After listening to both parties, the judge looked at Thomas with sympathetic eyes and delivered the judgment.
“Considering the new circumstances, the court believes that it would be best for the children to be in the care of their biological father. Dr. Spellman, I wish you strength and good health, but if you truly love these children, you must understand that this is what’s best for them. Hence, I am awarding the custody of the children to their biological father. You have two weeks to prepare them.”
Thomas had seen it all coming the day he received the summons, but he wanted to fight for his nephews and for the sake of his promise to Leah.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
As he packed his nephews’ bags, ready to bid them goodbye, Thomas’s chest felt hollow, as if a heart was no longer beating there. These children had been his reason to live.
“Uncle Thomas, we want to live with you! Please, Uncle Thomas,” the kids insisted.
“Boys,” Thomas said. “If you love Uncle Thomas, you know he would never choose something wrong for you. I want you to be happy, and Joe will keep you happy, boys. Will you please get your things to his car now?”
As the three little boys loaded their bags into Joe’s car, they didn’t even look at him. In fact, they turned around and ran and hugged Doctor Thomas’s leg.
“I love you, Uncle Thomas,” Jayden said in tears. “I…I don’t want to leave you!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“We want to live with you, too!” Noah and Andy cried in unison.
“Hey, hey, guys,” Thomas crouched down to face the kids. “Didn’t we make a solid deal? I will come to see you on weekends, and we’re going to be good to Daddy Joe.”
Thomas wrapped the boys in a tight hug, swallowing his tears. “Now come on; Joe’s waiting,” he said, trying to pull away, but the children held onto him even tighter.
Joe had never liked Thomas. In fact, he would’ve done anything to have his kids back. But at that moment, something in his heart shifted. He looked at Thomas and the boys and couldn’t stop himself from joining them.
“You were right all along, Thomas,” he said, hugging them and shaking his head. “We should not fight for the children but for their sake.” After that, Joe helped Thomas carry the boys’ bags back into the house.
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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who adopted her late best friend’s son despite being a single mother of four kids. But 13 years later, the boy’s birth father showed up on her doorstep to take him away.
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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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