KARMA stepped in before I even confronted him. I’m 26 and have lived in a different state from my family for four years. MY BROTHER SECRETLY TOOK THE $20K MY GRANDMA LEFT ME BEFORE SHE DIED.
I scarcely converse with them since I was never truly cherished as a youngster.
My older brother was always favored by my parents. My grandmother was the only person I was close to.
Sadly, she passed away recently, and I discovered this by accident! Nobody even tried to call me!
Guess what I saw when I rushed back to my hometown to visit her grave?
My brother, who lives in a trailer and works as a cashier, drives a red convertible around town. Is that suspicious?
At the grave, I met my grandmother’s closest companion, and during our discussion, he inquired, “DID YOU GET THE $20K YOUR Grandmother LEFT YOU?” That’s when it all came together.
I went straight to my brother’s trailer to confront him, but when I got there, karma had already gotten him…
In addition, it turned out that granny had PLAN B and foreseen this scenario. You can read about how karma got him and what granny really prepared for me in the comments section below.
I knew something wasn’t right when I saw my brother driving around in a shiny red convertible. I had no idea that that car held the key to a betrayal I had never anticipated, as well as a plan Gran had devised long before she passed away.
I am Juniper. I’ve been living out of state for four years, and I’m 26 now.
To tell you the truth, it was the best choice I ever made: to move away from my family and all the hurt that accompanied it.
I never really felt like I was a part of them. Maverick, my older brother, had always been favored by my parents. You could say he was the prodigy, yet that doesn’t actually cover it.
I was just there as a child. The “spare,” as Gran used to joke, though she always said it with a gentle tone in her voice.
I left for that reason in part. That, as well as my boyfriend Noel.
He persuaded me that it was time to live for myself and create something outside of my family’s shadow.
I moved with him to the city, away from Maverick, my parents, and all of the memories, in our little car.
I once told him over dinner, “Noel, I swear, I just couldn’t stay there anymore.” From across the table, he had smiled at me and reached out to grab my hand, which I still remember.
“You don’t have to clear up it for me once more, June. He had reassuringly squeezed my hand and said, “You did the right thing.” You don’t deserve to be the second choice.
I barely spoke to my family after four years away. Text messages and phone calls became rarer and less frequent.
Who are they? Sincerely, they didn’t seem to care. It appeared as though I had just vanished from their lives.
Gran was the only person who maintained contact.
She was the one individual in my family who caused me to feel like I made a difference. When I was younger, she would call me late at night to inquire about how my day had gone or sneak me chocolate bars when my mother wasn’t looking.
Gran didn’t care if I felt like my life was in disarray or if it was boring. She recently tuned in.
And afterward, at some point, I figured out she kicked the bucket.
Accidentally. Nothing, not even a message or call. Is that really true?
I was looking at Facebook, everything being equal, and saw a post from an old family companion. Gran’s photograph. a date and a note reading “Rest in Peace.”
I was unable to relax.
I waited for things to make sense as I stared at my phone, but they didn’t. My sincere like it had been torn out of my chest.
“Gran’s gone,” I said as I stood up and dropped my phone on the table.
“Noel raised his head from the couch. What?
What does it imply that she has left?”
“She passed on. I was not even informed.” Though the tears were burning, it was more than just sadness; It was possibly betrayal and anger.” Why didn’t they inform me?
In a split second, Noel stood up and gave me a hug that made no sense. Why hadn’t my folks called me?
Indeed, even Dissident. Nothing.
That same evening, I booked a flight back home.
I had to pay a visit to Gran’s grave, no matter what. At least on my terms, I had to say goodbye.
I found myself walking through my hometown the next morning, the place I hadn’t seen in years and the place I had tried so hard to leave. Except for one thing, everything was as I remembered it.
As I remained at the side of the road close to the graveyard, I spotted something that made my blood run cold. Maverick, my brother, was driving by in a flashy red convertible.
Maverick?
The one who continued to work as a cashier despite struggling to make ends meet? He was driving a vehicle that seemed as though it cost more than as long as he can remember investment funds.
My stomach agitated. There was a problem.
I was standing by Gran’s grave later that day, the only sound around being the gentle rustle of the trees.
I couldn’t get rid of the knot in my stomach because the earth was still fresh. Gran was truly absent. I hadn’t been able to properly say goodbye: no opportunity to express my gratitude to her.
The agony of discovering her death via a Facebook post lingered like an open wound.
I heard footsteps approaching as I knelt beside the grave.
I saw Gran’s best friend, Mr. Anderson, when I looked up. He was a sort, more seasoned man, continuously floating around Gran, assisting her with anything she wanted.
As he approached, his expression was melancholy.
Standing next to me, he spoke softly, “Juniper, I’m so sorry.” Your Gran… she was a stand-out woman.”
The lump in my throat went down in my mouth. She was in fact. I only wish I could have spent more time with her.
He gave a dis
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