When my son Stuart asked to celebrate his birthday at my house, I eagerly agreed, hoping it would bring us closer. But the next morning, I returned to find my home trashed—broken windows, scorched furniture, and shattered memories everywhere.
There was a note from Stuart: “Had a wild night to say goodbye to our youth. Might need to clean up a bit.” My calls went unanswered, and heartbreak consumed me.
Later, my 80-year-old neighbor Martha invited me over. Surprisingly, Stuart showed up too. Martha announced she was retiring and planned to give her house and estate to me instead of Stuart—after seeing how he treated me and my home.
Stuart protested, but Martha was firm: after his betrayal, she trusted me more than him. He stormed off in anger.
Though I was shattered by my son’s actions, Martha’s unexpected kindness reminded me I’m not alone—and sometimes family isn’t just about blood.
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