I TOOK CARE OF MY SICK NEIGHBOR FOR YEARS, BUT AFTER HER DEATH, THE POLICE KNOCKED ON MY DOOR – IF ONLY I KNEW WHY.
For seven years, I cared for Mrs. Patterson, an elderly woman abandoned by her own family. They visited just enough to take money before vanishing again, leaving her heartbroken by the window, waiting for love that never came.
She had wealth but no warmth, and over time, she became my family. We cooked, played games, shared stories—she was my home in a way no place had ever been.
Meanwhile, I had no family left. But with Mrs. Patterson, my life had meaning.
Recently, she passed away. At her funeral, her relatives shed fake tears, their eyes gleaming with greed. I went home, grieving… until a knock at my door changed everything.
Two officers stood there. “Are you the caretaker of Mrs. Patterson?”
A chill ran down my spine. “We need you to come with us.”
I stepped inside her house to find her entire family waiting—furious.
And then, her daughter pointed at me and screamed, “It’s her!
“It’s her!” Mrs. Patterson’s daughter shrieked, eyes blazing with fury.
My heart pounded. Me? What did I do?
The officer sighed. “Mrs. Patterson’s will was just read.”
I frowned. What did that have to do with me?
“She left everything to you.”
The room erupted. Her family shouted, cursed, called me a thief.
I was speechless. I never asked for anything.
The officer handed me a letter—Mrs. Patterson’s final words:
“You gave me love when they gave me nothing. This is my thanks.”
Tears filled my eyes.
Her family wanted money. She wanted family. In the end, she chose me.