I cared for an elderly, wealthy woman for many years until she passed away. When she died, her family suddenly appeared, hoping to claim her fortune. But she left behind a surprise that transformed all our lives.
I had been looking after Ms. Elowen for seven remarkable years. She was frail, solitary, and aged. Her family had forsaken her, but her wealth allowed her to keep me as her caretaker. I never imagined this role would bring complications later.
Ms. Elowen lived in a majestic house atop a hill, surrounded by sprawling gardens. She had staff for upkeep, but her strength had faded with time. Her eyes, once vibrant, had dimmed with age. Yet, when we played chess or baked her cherished lemon tarts, they sparkled again.
Her family visited just enough to feign concern. They arrived in lavish attire, flashed insincere smiles, took some money, and vanished.
After their visits, she’d sit by the window, heart heavy, gazing out, waiting for their return. They never came back.
Over time, she became more than my employer—she became my kin. We shared laughter, tales, and quiet moments. She loved capturing our moments in photos. Despite her riches, loneliness enveloped her.
I had no family left either. My parents were gone, and I was an only child. I lived in a modest rented room near Ms. Elowen’s estate. My life was simple, but our bond gave it meaning.
One stormy afternoon, as we watched rain streak the windows, she sighed. “Talia, you’re the only one who truly cares for me. I’m deeply grateful for that.”
I was taken aback. “No need to thank me, Ms. Elowen. It’s been an honor to care for you all these years.”
We rarely spoke of her family, but their indifference was clear. I saw how they coveted her jewelry and wealth. I held her hand, and she smiled.
“I’m glad you’re here, Talia. You’re my true family.”
I fought back tears. “You’re my family too.”
We never revisited the topic, but from that day, my duty felt deeper. It wasn’t just work—I loved her. I should’ve realized she was bidding farewell.
One morning, I found her lying peacefully in bed, a gentle smile on her face, her hand resting on a photo of her late husband. My knees buckled, and I sank to the floor, devastated.
I knew my task. She’d shown me where she kept her children’s contact details. I called them, and upon hearing the news, they brushed me off, saying they’d handle everything.
The funeral was subdued. Her children, grandchildren, and distant relatives attended, dressed in black, offering hollow condolences. Some shed crocodile tears, but their eyes gleamed with greed.
I saw it—their eagerness, their hunger for her wealth. They barely acknowledged me, save for wary glances.
After the service, I lingered in the church, alone, lost. She was more than an employer—she was my friend, my family.
That night, back in my small room, exhausted and grieving, her laughter, her scent, her warmth haunted me. As I sank into sorrow, a sharp knock startled me.
That knock changed everything.
Opening the door, I found two police officers. One, a tall man with silver-streaked hair, spoke first. “Are you Talia?”
I nodded, heart racing. “Yes… is something wrong?”
“We need you to come with us,” he said.
Panic gripped me. Had I erred? Had I failed Ms. Elowen? My mind spun with dread.
I followed in my car to Ms. Elowen’s estate. The grand entrance felt different, guarded by security. Her entire family was inside, with a lawyer. The air was thick with tension.
As I entered, her daughter, Lysandra, pointed at me, furious. “It’s her! She deceived my mother! She orchestrated this!”
I froze. “I… I don’t understand.”
The lawyer cleared his throat. “We’re here to read Ms. Elowen’s will. Her family insisted it be done now. And you, Talia, are named in it.”
Murmurs rippled through the room. The lawyer opened the document and read.
“To my children, I leave my forgiveness, for they deserted me long ago.”
Lysandra gasped. Her brother, Corin, clenched his fists.
“To my grandchildren, I leave my hope that they learn the worth of love and loyalty.”
They exchanged baffled looks, their anticipation fading.
“And to my Talia, my caretaker, my friend, my family… I leave everything. The house, the land, the wealth—all of it.”
The room erupted in chaos.
Lysandra’s face flushed with rage. “This is a sham! She’s a schemer!”
Corin lunged at me, but guards intervened. He shouted, “You manipulated her! This is fraud!”
I stood, speechless. “I never asked for any of this.”
The lawyer raised a hand. “Ms. Elowen anticipated this reaction. She left proof—letters, photos, and records of her time with Talia. She wanted her choice clear.”
He handed me a box filled with photos of us baking, playing chess, laughing. Letters in her elegant script. I held it, hands trembling, tears welling.
Now I understood why she took those photos. She foresaw the aftermath of her passing. The security guards made sense when the lawyer read her final instruction:
“Ensure my caretaker, Talia, has security present when my family learns of my decision. I do not trust their reaction.”
Lysandra sank onto the couch, pale. “She… left us nothing?”
The lawyer nodded. “She said you abandoned her. This is her final wish.”
With nothing left to discuss, the guards escorted the family out amid their protests. I watched them go, consumed by their greed.
When the house fell silent, the lawyer approached me.
“She loved you, Talia. She wanted you to have a home. A family.”
I sank to the floor, tears streaming. “I loved her too.”
He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Honor her by living in the home she treasured.”
The notary handed me the house key and had me sign papers before leaving with the officers.
I looked around, overwhelmed. The grand house, once hers, was now mine. It felt empty yet brimming with her presence.
Ms. Elowen gave me more than a house. She gave me a family, even in death. Holding the box of memories, I felt her with me—my friend, my grandmother, my home.
Her so-called family? They were left with nothing but regrets.
