I was the youngest of five siblings. After our parents died in a car crash, our grandfather raised us alone.
Every morning at 5 AM, I heard him making coffee and packing his old metal lunchbox for work.
My siblings left home one by one, but I stayed after university to take care of him. He always said I didn’t have to, but I chose to.
They never accepted me and blamed me for our parents’ death, even though I was only a toddler in the back seat when the crash happened.
At family gatherings, their resentment never stopped.
When Grandpa died, I lost the only person who truly cared for me.
At the will reading:
- Matthew got the house
- Jake got the car
- Kirk and Jessica got $20,000 each
- I got his old metal lunchbox
They mocked me. I left in tears, feeling abandoned.
I went to the park we used to visit and opened the lunchbox.
Inside, I froze.