To test us, my grandmother pretended to be deaf. I will always remember the looks on my family’s faces when they assembled to hear the will
Every member of our family, particularly my uncle and aunt, had their sights set on my grandmother’s fortune because she was quite affluent. They essentially declared their want for her home.
My grandmother, regrettably, died. Her lawyer called all of the family members to his office a few days after the funeral to read the will. Seven little boxes and seven envelopes were spread out on a long table as the seven of us entered.
The lawyer smirked and said, “Please, take a seat.” I sensed that something was going to occur. “Your grandmother left something different for you,” he said, turning to face me. “All of you can now open your envelopes!” he said. My uncle’s expression as he opened his mail should have been visible to you. There was….
The entire family was aware of it, and it appeared that almost all of them were merely waiting for her to die so they could finally inherit their “rightful” portion of her wealth. My aunt and uncle were really excited.
Grandma claimed to have lost her hearing a year prior to her passing. I saw odd things, but everyone believed her. She would “accidentally” react to things she allegedly couldn’t hear, for instance.
She once abruptly commented on something I had just said while we were in a different room, conversing quietly on the phone. I began to suspect something at that point.
I once heard my uncle and aunt laughing in the kitchen as they discussed which room in Grandma’s house they would each take while we were getting ready for a family meal.
They grumbled that she “was living way too long” and referred to her as “a crazy old hag.” I wanted to say something, but I sensed that someone was listening, so I turned to see Grandma.
She was staring directly at me from the doorway. She remained silent. She simply grinned and gave a
Grandma and I sat down and discussed it in detail that evening. She had a plan; she wasn’t only acting. We started recording all of the relatives’ interactions while they believed Grandma was “deaf.”
Every insult, every ugly, self-centered comment, even conversations on how to “conveniently” divide her money. The recordings were stored on flash disks. There were precisely seven of them. One for every member of the family.
Grandma died quietly in her sleep a week later.
The lawyer summoned the entire family to his office a few days following the funeral. There were seven envelopes and seven little boxes on the large table. The attorney greeted us with a small smile:
— Please take a seat. You all have a “gift.” He glanced at me, but aside from you, your grandma left you something else. Open your envelopes, everyone else.
Things started to get extremely intriguing at that point.
A flash drive was discovered inside each relative’s mail. They simultaneously plugged them into laptops. Abruptly, the room was filled with their own voices.
One person suggested demolishing Grandma’s home and selling the property. She “wasn’t in her right mind anymore,” according to someone else who laughed. Even “speeding up the process” was proposed.
The room fell silent.
My uncle became as pale as the dead. Everyone had already heard everything, so it was too late when my aunt attempted to take out the flash drive. The attorney got to his feet and declared calmly:
As per the will, not a single dime will be given to any of you. She is leaving everything to her granddaughter, including the house, assets, money, and antiques.
I left that office feeling both proud and sad. My grandmother passed away, yet her dignity was maintained. And the looks on my family members’ faces… I will always remember them.
