I thought I was just a caregiver for Mrs. Blackwood, a sharp-tongued, secretive woman, until her plan to rewrite the will in my favor, cutting out her children, pulled me into a storm of family secrets.
I was young, unemployed, and full of doubts. A nursing diploma in hand but no job prospects. Higher education in the city felt like a cruel joke. Weeks of failed interviews left me restless, staring at a bleak future.
Then, a small ad in the paper caught my eye:
“Nanny needed for an elderly lady who cannot walk. Live-in position.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
It felt like a lifeline. So, I headed to the interview.
When I arrived at the grand, slightly weathered house, the door was opened by a young man, perhaps in his early twenties.
“You must be here for the nanny position,” he said with a polite smile. “I’m Edward.”
Before I could respond, a young woman appeared behind him.
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“And I’m Emily. Grandma’s expecting you,” she added, her tone friendly but distant, as if this was a routine chore she wanted to get over with.
They were kind enough to show me inside, but it looked as though they were obligated to be welcoming.
“Grandma’s upstairs,” Edward said as he gestured toward the staircase. “We’ll let her take it from here.”
They disappeared down the hall, leaving me with the distinct impression that they were more like housemates than attentive grandchildren.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Mrs. Blackwood greeted me with a smile that radiated confidence. She was in bed, but everything about her said she was in control. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, her nails polished, and her laughter surprisingly hearty.
“Ah, you must Mia,” she said, her voice warm and commanding. “Come in, dear. Sit down.”
I hesitated for a moment. She didn’t match the frail, helpless image I’d expected.
“Don’t just stand there,” she teased, patting the edge of the bed. “Sit! Have a doughnut. No one should face the world hungry.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you,” I replied, cautiously picking one from the plate on her nightstand.
Her eyes sparkled as she watched me as if she already knew my life story.
“So, tell me,” she began, leaning back slightly, “why do you want this job?”
“I need it. And I believe I can help you,” I said, trying not to overshare.
She nodded. “Honesty. That’s rare these days. Well, Mia, welcome aboard.”
That’s how my life in Lady Blackwood’s house began.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
The first few days were uneventful. I followed her routine, listened to her endless stories, and thought maybe this would be simple. But then, the strangeness began.
One morning, a book from the shelf moved beside her bed.
“Did you read this last night, Mrs. Blackwood?” I asked, holding up the book.
“I don’t sleepwalk, dear,” she replied, her lips twitching with amusement.
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Then there was the curtain. I distinctly remembered leaving it open, but it was drawn when I returned. And the flowers… They were freshly watered when I hadn’t touched them.
“Are your grandchildren coming to kiss good night?” I asked one morning, trying to sound casual.
“Oh no,” she said with a small laugh. “Edward and Emily have been living here since their parents gone, but they rarely bother to check on me before bed.”
“But… someone’s moving things,” I pressed.
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“They’ll come when the will is read,” she added, missing my comments.
Her words hung in the air like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Something was off, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mrs. Blackwood was hiding something from everyone, including her grandchildren.
***
Each new day in the Blackwood household seemed to unravel more mysteries. I decided to make a few changes to Mrs. Blackwood’s routine, not only to make her life more comfortable but also to create a sense of normalcy in the house. Instead of letting her eat alone in her room, I began setting the table in the living room.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“There’s something special about a proper dinner table,” I said, adjusting the silverware. “It feels more… lively, don’t you think?”
Mrs. Blackwood raised an eyebrow, but a faint smile tugged at her lips.
“You’re full of ideas, aren’t you, Mia?”
“And you’re going to love this one,” I said with a wink, pushing her wheelchair closer to the table.
I covered her with a soft blanket and tucked a pillow behind her back for support.
Edward and Emily weren’t as enthusiastic about the change. The first night, they entered the room with wide eyes, as though they had stumbled into a completely foreign world.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“What’s this?” Emily asked, frowning at the neatly set table.
“Dinner,” I replied cheerfully. “It’s nice to eat together, don’t you think?”
Edward hesitated. “But Grandma always eats in her room.”
“Well, not anymore,” I said firmly, pulling out a chair for him. “She deserves company, don’t you agree?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
They exchanged a look, clearly uncomfortable, but sat down anyway.
Later, I introduced the idea of reading nights twice a week.
“It’s simple,” I explained one evening. “We’ll each take turns reading a chapter aloud. Then we can discuss the plot. It’ll be fun, and it’ll give us all something to share.”
Mrs. Blackwood seemed to enjoy it, her laughter often punctuating the room as we stumbled through old classics and lighthearted tales.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
But after a few weeks, Edward and Emily began to find excuses to skip. Their absences became more frequent until it was just Mrs. Blackwood and me at the table.
One evening, the four of us gathered for the dinner.
“I’m glad you both joined us tonight,” Mrs. Blackwood began, her voice smooth and warm.
Edward glanced at Emily. “Actually, Grandma, there’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”
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Emily jumped in before he could finish. “We’ve been thinking… It’s probably best for all of us if Edward and I move out. You’ll still have Mia here to take care of you, of course.”
Mrs. Blackwood tilted her head. “Moved out? Where would you go?”
“We found a place downtown,” Edward explained quickly. “But, um, we’ll need a little help with the deposit and rent.”
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For a moment, silence hung over the table. Then Mrs. Blackwood gave a slow, deliberate smile that made both Edward and Emily sit up straighter.
“Well, isn’t that convenient,” she said, her voice light but laced with something sharp. “Since we’re all sharing news, I have some of my own.”
Edward frowned. “What news?”
Mrs. Blackwood leaned forward slightly, her eyes gleaming with amusement.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Next week, my lawyer will be visiting to make some changes to my will.”
Emily froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Changes?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Blackwood replied. “You see, I’ve decided that everything will go to Mia.”
“You’re joking!” Emily exclaimed.
“Oh, I’m quite serious,” Mrs. Blackwood said, her voice calm. “Mia has shown me the kind of care and respect I haven’t seen from either of you in years. She’s earned it.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“But we’re your grandchildren!” Edward burst out.
“Then perhaps you should start acting like it,” Mrs. Blackwood retorted. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe dinner is getting cold.”
***
Overnight, Edward’s and Emily’s behavior changed in the most absurd ways. Suddenly, they became the epitome of devoted grandchildren, vying for her attention. That was as entertaining as it was ridiculous.
One morning, I walked into the living room to find Edward arranging a vase of bright tulips on the table.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Flowers for you, Grandma,” he said, his tone overly cheerful. “I remember how much you love tulips.”
Mrs. Blackwood glanced at the flowers, unimpressed. “Do you? That’s interesting because I prefer orchids.”
Emily, not to be outdone, burst in a moment later carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.
“Breakfast in the living room today, Grandma! I thought you’d enjoy a change of scenery.”
Mrs. Blackwood raised an eyebrow, sipping the tea. “Well, aren’t you two just angels,” she said dryly. “Too bad you didn’t think of this sooner.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
They were relentless. Their efforts to win her over bordered on comical. Meanwhile, I barely had to lift a finger.
But despite their over-the-top efforts, Mrs. Blackwood remained firm. One evening, after a particularly extravagant dinner prepared by Emily, she announced:
“My decision is final. No amount of flowers or fancy meals will change it.”
The smiles disappeared, replaced by hushed conversations behind closed doors.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
The next day, Edward approached me.
“We’ve decided that your services are no longer needed. We can manage taking care of Grandma ourselves.”
It was clear his words were rehearsed, but the tension in his voice betrayed the real motive.
“Alright,” I said finally. “I’ll pack my things.”
As I turned to leave, Mrs. Blackwood called me to her room. She handed me an envelope stuffed with cash.
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“It’s time for you to act. Rent a car, park it near the house at midnight, and wait in the garden when the lights go out. Be ready for anything.”
I stared at her, startled. “But what’s going to happen?”
She smiled. “Just trust me. You’ll see soon enough.”
***
I rented the jeep, just as Mrs. Blackwood had instructed. The following night, I drove toward her house and parked the jeep a few streets away, keeping it hidden under the shadows of tall trees.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Taking a deep breath, I got out and crept into the garden, crouching behind the hedge where I had a clear view of the house. Time felt elastic, stretching endlessly as I waited for her signal.
Then, all at once, the lights in the house went out.
My pulse quickened. I fixed my eyes on the windows, every muscle in my body tense. The darkness seemed alive, moving with shadows that weren’t there a moment ago.
Suddenly, the back door creaked open, and a figure in a black cloak emerged. It turned, the face illuminated by the moonlight.
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“Mrs. Blackwood?” I whispered, unsure if it could really be her.
“Come,” she whispered, moving with a speed and confidence that shocked me.
I hurried after her, struggling to keep up as she navigated the garden like someone half her age. When we reached the jeep, she slid into the driver’s seat without hesitation.
“Wait… you can drive?” I stammered, stunned.
“Of course,” she replied, her tone tinged with amusement. “Did you think I spent all my time in bed for fun?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
As she expertly maneuvered the jeep, she explained everything. The shifting objects, the carefully timed moments of helplessness—it had all been part of her plan.
“My grandchildren have spent their lives waiting for something they didn’t earn. You, Mia, showed me what true care and effort look like. It’s time they learn to stand on their own.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
True to her word, Mrs. Blackwood rewrote her will, leaving nothing to her grandchildren. Instead, she rewarded me generously and donated the rest to charity. Her grandchildren were given a choice: start earning their way or leave without support. Surprisingly, they chose to change.
As for me, I found a place to live and returned to my hospital internship, armed with glowing recommendations from Mrs. Blackwood. That adventure gifted me with an extraordinary friendship with Mrs. Blackwood, who taught me the true value of self-worth.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
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My BIL Destroyed Our House While We Were on Vacation – Karma Got Him Before We Could Confront Him
The moment I saw our front door ajar and trash scattered across the porch, I knew something was horribly wrong. But nothing could have prepared me for the chaos inside or the wild turn of events that followed.
I sat at the edge of the bed, staring out the window, letting the soft hum of the city fill the silence. My husband, Ethan, was busy packing our suitcases in the other room, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t stop thinking about how different our lives were compared to his brother, Stan.
A thoughtful woman staring out the window of her room | Source: Midjourney
Ethan and I had built our life from the ground up. We weren’t rich, but we weren’t struggling either. We had this modest, cozy house, a place we’d filled with love and countless memories. It was our sanctuary.
Despite coming from a wealthy family, Ethan had always wanted to make his own way in the world. He worked hard, never asking for handouts, not even when his father, Howard, practically begged him to join the family business.
A middle-aged businessman standing in his office | Source: Midjourney
Stan, on the other hand, well, he was another story entirely. He thrived on the luxuries that came with their father’s money. I mean, Stan had never even had a real job outside of working for their dad.
And even there, he didn’t really “work.” He just showed up, smiled, and enjoyed the perks of being the boss’s son. Fancy cars, exclusive parties, designer clothes. He loved it all.
But it wasn’t just the material things. Stan was reckless. He had this sense of entitlement that bordered on delusion. If he wanted something, he took it; no questions asked.
An entitled man standing next to his fancy car | Source: Midjourney
I sighed, pushing those thoughts away. Ethan poked his head into the room. “You ready?” he asked, zipping up the last suitcase.
“Almost,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just thinking about how nice it will be to get away for a bit. We both need this.”
He smiled back. “Yeah, we really do.”
We were about to leave for a week-long vacation. A rare escape from our everyday lives.
A closeup of a person putting a passport in a black bag | Source: Pexels
It was the first time we’d been away for this long in years, and we’d trusted Stan with our house. Just a simple favor: feed the cat, water the plants, and check the mail. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea, but Ethan insisted.
“Stan will be fine,” he’d said a few days ago, sensing my hesitation. “It’s not a big deal. He can handle it.”
I had my doubts, but what could go wrong in a week?
But when we pulled into the driveway seven days later, my stomach dropped.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
The front door was slightly ajar, and there were cans, bottles, and trash littering the porch.
“Ethan…” I whispered, gripping his arm. “What happened?”
His face darkened. Without a word, he pushed open the door, and we stepped inside. The air smelled sour: a mix of stale beer, smoke, and something burnt. I blinked, trying to make sense of the scene in front of me.
The living room was unrecognizable. Furniture was overturned, broken glass crunched beneath our feet, and dirty dishes were scattered everywhere.
An extremely messed up living room | Source: Midjourney
The walls? They were smeared with what looked like food: pizza sauce, mustard, and who knows what else.
“What the hell?” Ethan’s voice trailed off as he moved further into the house. “Stan! What did you do?”
I followed him into the kitchen, and that’s when I saw it — the blackened stove, the melted cabinets. Something had exploded. There was no doubt about it.
“First of all, congrats on getting a new house.”
“Ethan,” I gasped, “this is insane!”
He ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth. “How could he do this? He was supposed to just watch the house, not throw a frat party!”
A closeup shot of an angry man | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed my phone, fingers trembling as I dialed Stan’s number. It went straight to voicemail. I called again. Nothing.
“Stan!” Ethan yelled into the void. “Answer your freakin’ phone!”
Panic bubbled inside me as I watched Ethan try to piece together what had happened. We had trusted him. “We need answers,” I muttered, pulling up my mother-in-law’s number.
She picked up on the second ring. “Aubrey, honey, how was your trip?” she asked, her voice calm and sweet, oblivious to the storm brewing on our end.
A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney
“Celeste,” I interrupted, “do you know where Stan is? We just got home, and the house… it’s destroyed!”
I could feel my heart racing as I clutched the phone, waiting for Celeste to explain what on earth had happened to Stan. My mind was running wild with scenarios, but nothing could have prepared me for her next words.
“Oh, you don’t know?” Celeste said, her voice far too calm for the situation. “First of all, congrats on getting a new house, and second, you won’t be seeing Stan for a while because, well, he’s unavailable.”
A middle-aged woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Unavailable?” I repeated, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”
There was a pause before she continued, almost as if she was gathering her thoughts or maybe trying to sugarcoat what she was about to drop on me.
“After one of his infamous parties,” she said, her tone a blend of exasperation and something that almost sounded like relief, “Stan forgot to turn off the gas in your kitchen. It caused a small explosion.”
I felt like the floor had been ripped out from beneath me. “An explosion?! Celeste, our kitchen is destroyed!”
An extremely messed up kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” She sighed as if talking about a stubborn child who had made yet another mess.
“Your father-in-law found Stan drunk and out of his mind in your house. The explosion wasn’t big, but it scared him enough to finally take action. Stan’s been, let’s just say his days of playing executive are over. Howard’s had enough.”
I pressed the phone harder to my ear, my blood boiling. “What do you mean ‘had enough?’ What exactly did Howard do?”
An angry and stunned woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
Celeste didn’t hesitate this time. “Howard demoted him. Stan’s not going to be his right-hand man anymore. He’s going to be a truck driver for the company. Howard’s sending him on a month-long haul. It’s supposed to teach him some responsibility.”
I blinked, speechless. Ethan stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, staring at me with wide eyes, waiting for me to explain what his mother had just said. “Wait, wait,” I stammered. “He’s sending Stan on a cross-country trip? Driving trucks?”
A closeup shot of a man driving a truck | Source: Midjourney
“Yes,” Celeste replied, and I could hear a hint of satisfaction in her voice. “It’s about time someone put him in his place. I guess that explosion was the final straw.”
Ethan took a step closer, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “What is she saying?”
I covered the mouthpiece for a second. “Stan’s been demoted to a truck driver,” I whispered, still processing the words myself.
“What?” Ethan’s jaw dropped, his face a combination of shock and anger. “That’s unbelievable.”
A furious man | Source: Midjourney
But Celeste wasn’t done. “Oh, and there’s one more thing, dear. Your father-in-law was planning to buy Stan a new house, you know, something extravagant, as a reward for his work. But after all this mess, he’s decided it’s yours instead. Howard said you two deserve it more.”
I nearly dropped the phone. “What?”
“You heard me right,” Celeste said, her tone softening. “It’s yours. The papers will be sorted out soon. Congratulations, Aubrey.”
A white and gray wooden house | Source: Pexels
I stood there in stunned silence, my hand shaking as I gripped the phone. Ethan looked at me, confusion and hope battling on his face. “What did she say?”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “The house, the one Howard was going to give to Stan, is ours now.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?”
A man looks a little startled while talking to someone | Source: Midjourney
I nodded slowly. “Yeah, she said we’re getting the house. Karma, I guess.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The reality of what had just happened was sinking in.
Stan had trashed our house, left it in ruins, caused an explosion, but somehow, we had come out of it better off. It didn’t make sense, but I wasn’t about to question it.
Ethan finally let out a breath he’d been holding and leaned against the counter. “I can’t believe this. I mean, it’s what he deserves, but I didn’t expect this.”
A depressed and lonely man | Source: Midjourney
“Neither did I.” I shook my head, my mind racing. “I was so angry at him, Ethan. I still am. But this is bigger than that. He’s been living this reckless life for years, and now he has to face the consequences.”
Ethan nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders starting to ease. “He does. But I still don’t know how we’re supposed to clean this up.” He gestured to the wreckage around us.
I laughed, despite everything, a little hysterical. “Well, at least we have a new house to look forward to.”
A woman laughs hysterically | Source: Midjourney
Ethan cracked a small smile, finally. “Yeah. A new house.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I guess we should call Dad and thank him, huh?”
I exhaled slowly. “Yeah. But first, I think I need to sit down.”
We both collapsed onto the one piece of furniture that wasn’t broken: a chair in the corner. For a minute, we just sat there, surrounded by the mess Stan had made, trying to wrap our heads around what had just unfolded.
Ethan reached over and squeezed my hand. “I guess karma’s got a way of working things out.”
A man smiling faintly | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah,” I said quietly, staring at the chaos around us. “It really does.”
As the shock wore off, I realized that while Stan had wrecked our home, he hadn’t destroyed us. If anything, we were walking away with more than we ever expected. A new house. A fresh start.
And maybe, just maybe, this was the wake-up call Stan needed too.
“Let’s just hope he learns from this,” Ethan muttered.
I nodded, though I wasn’t holding my breath. “We’ll see.”
A loving couple | Source: Midjourney
Do you think karma worked its magic here? Let’s hear your take!
While you’re busy contemplating your response, check out another exciting story: Returning from a blissful Hawaiian vacation, Lisa and her two young children were shocked to find an unwelcome guest comfortably settled in their home. Faced with an uncooperative squatter and little help from the police, Lisa was forced to take drastic measures to reclaim her family’s sanctuary.
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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