Linda received her grandmother’s antique clocks while her covetous brother inherited the house, only to find out her share was worth nearly $200K

A greedy brother inherits a house and mocks his younger sister, who only gets five rusty old clocks from their late grandmother. Little did they know about what was hidden in those timepieces.

“Oh, so grandma called you as well?! I thought you’d be busy in the library…like a good little bookworm!” 26-year-old Brian scoffed at his younger sister Linda, 19.

She had just stepped down from the taxi. Fear filled her eyes as her heart told her: “Nothing will happen to grandma. She’ll be fine. She’ll live for a hundred years more.”

Brian and Linda had come to visit their 90-year-old granny Marlene. She had requested them to see her urgently.

“Sweethearts, I wish to see you one last time. I might not get another chance again,” Marlene had painfully told them on the call two days ago…

As Linda entered her grandma’s bedroom, she coughed, noticing that it was pretty dusty. Marlene was too old and sick to do things on her own. She hadn’t swept the floor, and Linda saw the ceiling was moldy due to leakage.

Linda opened the clock, and what she found inside would go on to change her life.
“Grandma!!” she ran and hugged Marlene, who was in bed. “Nothing will happen to you, grandma. Please don’t worry. God will not take you away from us because you are all that we have.”

Until a year ago, Linda lived with Marlene. She took good care of her and helped her a lot. She was even ready to turn down a life-changing scholarship but moved to the city to pursue her degree upon Marlene’s insistence.

Brian entered the room, coughing and grinning. “Damn…I’m allergic to dust! Grandma, didn’t you sweep and dust your room?”

He came closer and saw his grandma was sick and skinny. But he was least bothered and stood there, waiting to know why she had called them.

Marlene stared into Brian’s eyes as she clasped Linda’s shivering hands. The girl was pained to see her grandma so pale and her eyes lacking that once beautiful spark. They looked lifeless.

Marlene smiled, getting up gently, and took two envelopes from under her pillow. “Sweethearts, this is for you,” she said. “Please use it wisely. I called to give it to you.”

Brian and Linda opened the envelopes and found a wad of $5,000 in each.

Linda could not hold back her tears and ran out crying.

Meanwhile, Brian frowned. “Only this much? I thought you had more to spare. Fine, I have to go now.” He turned his back on Marlene and walked away without even thanking her.

The next day, Marlene was in for a surprise.

“Good morning, grandma!” Marlene heard Linda in her bedroom. She didn’t expect her to return.

She awakened as the girl undrew the curtains, shafts of beams lighting up the dark, dusty bedroom.

She was surprised to see Linda. She had thought the girl had left for the city where she studied and was a part-time librarian.

Linda walked over to Marlene with the envelope she had given her the previous day.

“I added the $4,000 I’d saved over the year. Grandma, remember you told me about your poor vision? I now have $9,000. We can now pay for your eye surgery.”

Marlene rose from her bed. She hugged Linda, tears streaking her face. “I knew you better, darling! But it’s too late for the surgery. I can sense my death nearing. I don’t want to waste this money when it can be used for something better.”

Linda wiped away Marlene’s tears and said she would live with her.

“I’ve taken a month off. I’m not going anywhere until I see that golden smile on your face, grandma.”

And Linda knew what she had to do to restore Marlene’s smile.

Having Linda around was of great help to Marlene. She didn’t have to worry about cooking for herself.

There were days when Marlene would eat stale bread for dinner when she never felt like making herself a nice meal. But after Linda came, she started feeling on her feet again. Marlene had never felt so relaxed and happy before.

One day, she heard strangers’ voices outside her bedroom and went out to check. She was surprised. Linda had spent the $9,000 on renovating the house and fixing the leakage.

“I knew you wanted to repair grandpa’s treasured house for a long time. Are you happy now, grandma?! I renovated it so that you see the beautiful house you once lived in with grandpa. Do you like it?”

Marlene was speechless. She walked to Linda as fast as her fragile legs could carry her and hugged her. Marlene had never cried like she wept on Linda’s shoulders that day.

Marlene often made a wish. “I want to die when I’m the happiest on earth!” A week later, her wish was fulfilled. Marlene died in her sleep, leaving Linda with more than a broken heart.

A couple of days after the funeral, Linda and Brian were called to the lawyer’s office regarding the late Marlene’s will they never knew about.

When they got there, they were told about another surprise inheritance.

“Mr. White, according to your grandma’s will, you’ll be getting her house. Here are the papers. Please sign them.”

Linda was startled. She was not jealous of her older brother, but it worried her because she had renovated the house, and Brian got it when he least deserved it.

“And Miss Linda, this is yours,” the lawyer said, pushing forward a box toward Linda.

“What is this?” she exclaimed and opened the box. She found five old vintage clocks inside. Brian burst into laughter and began mocking her.

“That’s hella insane and cheap!! Grandma left her house to me. She knew who deserved the best. You can decorate your rented apartment with these rusty clocks and cry over it, sis. Luck does not favor everyone!”

Distraught, Linda left for the city, taking the clocks with her. She never bothered to check them thoroughly until one day when she noticed an engraving on one of them.

“OPEN IT!” was etched in a beautiful cursive font on the metal.

Curious, Linda opened the clock, and what she found inside would go on to change her life.

“A note?” she exclaimed and picked a little scroll from the clock’s interior. She unfolded it and sat back, stunned.

“Never underestimate these rusty, old watches! They are 100-year-old classic timepieces that belonged to my grandfather. And they are crafted from rare, exquisite metal! Each piece is worth $40,000, my dear!” began the note.

Linda’s eyes filled with tears of joy as she read further.

“Everyone gets what they truly deserve, Linda! I’m glad you got only the best. With Love, Granny Marlene.”

Linda burst into tears as she held the vintage clocks close to her heart. They still functioned, and she could hear them tick close to her heartbeat. It felt as though her granny had not gone anywhere.

Linda chose not to disclose this to her brother.

“He is blinded by greed and thinks he got the best from grandma. Let him live with that assumption. Granny knew who deserved the best and I needn’t prove it to him!” she thought and kept the rare timepieces locked in her drawer.

What can we learn from the story?

Everyone gets what they truly deserve. Brian mocked Linda when she inherited only five old clocks from their grandmother. Little did he know that she had actually gotten what she truly deserved because each piece was worth over $40,000.
Love and accept your elders for who they are. You will be loved back a hundredfold. Linda loved her grandma unconditionally and cared for her without expecting anything in return. Ultimately, she inherited a surprise $200K worth of legacy after her granny’s death.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

My Brother Demanded I Give Up the House I Inherited from Our Dad – the Next Day, He Called In Tears, Begging Me to Take It Back

My greedy brother demanded the family home I’d inherited from our late dad. But less than 24 hours later, he called me in tears and begged me to take it back. Something behind those walls had shaken him to his core and I knew exactly what it was.

The day Dad’s laughter faded from our home was the day my world lost its color. For years, I watched helplessly as illness slowly dimmed the light in his eyes, and my hands used to shake as I spooned soup into his mouth or adjusted his pillows.

A son holding his old dad's hand | Source: Pixabay

A son holding his old dad’s hand | Source: Pixabay

In those final moments, as I held his frail hand and whispered “I love you,” I felt a piece of my heart crumble away.

The house echoed with memories of better days, but also with the glaring absence of my brother Kyle, who couldn’t be bothered to say goodbye.

The day Dad died, I sat alone in the hospital room, holding his hand as the monitors flatlined.

An old man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik

An old man in a hospital bed | Source: Freepik

The silence that followed was deafening. I wanted to scream and rage against the unfairness of it all. But I just sat there numb as tears streamed down my face.

“I’ll miss you, Dad,” I whispered. “I hope I made you proud.”

As I left the hospital that day, I felt like I was leaving a part of myself behind. The world seemed duller and less vibrant without Dad in it.

I drove home in a daze, a fog of grief enveloping me. Each familiar street corner and storefront seemed to hold a piece of Dad, triggering a flood of memories that haunted me.

A grieving man | Source: Pixabay

A grieving man | Source: Pixabay

The days that followed were a blur of funeral arrangements and well-wishers.

I threw myself into the tasks at hand, finding some small comfort in staying busy. It wasn’t until the reading of the will that I saw Kyle again.

He strode into the lawyer’s office, flaunting his expensive suit and polished shoes.

A man in an elegant suit | Source: Pexels

A man in an elegant suit | Source: Pexels

Kyle had always been the ambitious one, using Dad’s connections to network and jumpstart his career. Once he got what he wanted, he vanished like smoke in the wind.

While I held Dad’s trembling hand through endless chemo sessions, Kyle’s absence hung in the air like a suffocating cloud.

Dad’s eyes would dart hopefully to the door at every sound, but Kyle never appeared.

A sick old man lying on a bed | Source: Midjourney

A sick old man lying on a bed | Source: Midjourney

On those long, dark nights when Dad’s pain was at its worst, and he’d whisper, “I wish both my boys were here,” I’d feel my heart shatter all over again.

And when Dad took his final breath, the empty chair beside his bed screamed Kyle’s indifference louder than any words ever could.

“Let’s get this over with,” Kyle said, snapping me out of my thoughts, not quite meeting my eyes as he took a seat.

A man in a black suit | Source: Pexels

A man in a black suit | Source: Pexels

Mrs. Hill, Dad’s lawyer, began reading the will. Most of Dad’s assets were to be split evenly between us. Then she paused, looking directly at me.

“The family home is to be left solely to Joseph.”

Kyle’s head snapped up. “What?”

Mrs. Hill continued, “Your father, William, specifically stated that the house should go to Joseph, in recognition of his care and dedication during his illness.”

A lawyer in her office | Source: Pexels

A lawyer in her office | Source: Pexels

I could feel Kyle’s eyes boring into me, but I kept my gaze fixed on the lawyer.

“Furthermore,” she added, “William left a substantial sum for renovations to the house, with specific instructions for its use.”

As we left the office, Kyle grabbed my arm. “This isn’t over,” he hissed.

I watched him storm off, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew this was far from over.

An angry man | Source: Pexels

An angry man | Source: Pexels

A week later, Kyle showed up at my farmhouse, unannounced and seething.

“You manipulated him,” he accused, pushing past me into the living room.

I closed the door, taking a deep breath. “Hello to you too, Kyle.”

He whirled on me, clenching his fist. “Don’t play innocent, Joe. You were with Dad, whispering in his ear, while I was out building a life for myself.”

A man clenching his fist | Source: Pexels

A man clenching his fist | Source: Pexels

“Building a life? Is that what you call abandoning your family?”

“I had opportunities, Joe. Big ones. Dad understood that.”

“Did he? Because I don’t remember him understanding why his oldest son couldn’t bother to call, let alone visit when he was dying.”

A man with a fragile smile | Source: Midjourney

A man with a fragile smile | Source: Midjourney

Kyle flinched but pressed on. “Dad must’ve made a mistake. The house should be mine. I’m the oldest. It’s tradition.”

I laughed. “Tradition? Since when do you care about tradition?”

“I’m serious, Joe. Give me the house, or I’ll take you to court. I’ll drag this out until you’re drowning in legal fees.”

A house surrounded by a beautiful garden | Source: Unsplash

A house surrounded by a beautiful garden | Source: Unsplash

I studied my brother, this stranger wearing familiar features.

Part of me wanted to fight and scream at him for his selfishness. But another part, a part that sounded suspiciously like Dad, whispered a different idea.

“Fine. You want the house? It’s yours.”

Kyle blinked, caught off guard. “Really?”

“I’ll sign it over to you. No strings attached.”

Suspicion clouded his face. “Just like that?”

Close-up shot of a man frowning in suspicion | Source: Midjourney

Close-up shot of a man frowning in suspicion | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, already reaching for the paperwork Mrs. Hill had left with me. “Just like that. Consider it yours, brother.”

With a heavy heart and trembling fingers, I signed away Dad’s legacy. The keys felt cold and accusing in my palm as I dropped them into Kyle’s eager hand.

As Kyle strutted out, victory gleaming in his eyes, I couldn’t help but smile. He had no idea about the whirlwind he was walking into.

A man holding a key | Source: Pexels

A man holding a key | Source: Pexels

“Joe,” Mrs. Hill said when I told her everything. “you realize this is madness, right? You don’t have to give in to your brother’s demands.”

“I know, Mrs. Hill. But sometimes you have to lose to win. And sometimes, lessons come in unexpected packages.”

The next morning, my phone rang at an ungodly hour. Kyle’s name flashed on the screen.

A phone with the screen flashing an incoming call | Source: Midjourney

A phone with the screen flashing an incoming call | Source: Midjourney

“Hello?” I answered, my voice still thick with sleep.

“What the hell did you do?” Kyle’s voice was a mix of panic and rage.

I sat up, fully awake now. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Don’t play dumb! The house! It’s… it’s…”

“It’s what, Kyle?”

An angry man talking on the phone | Source: Freepik

An angry man talking on the phone | Source: Freepik

“It’s a freaking circus!” he exploded. “There are slides in the living room! The bedroom is full of toys! Every room looks like it threw up a rainbow!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, that. Yeah, Dad and I had been working on a little project.”

“Little project? This isn’t a house anymore. It’s a damn daycare!”

“Actually,” I said, unable to keep the joy out of my voice, “it’s more of a community center for the local orphanage.”

“What are you talking about?”

A room full of toys | Source: Midjourney

A room full of toys | Source: Midjourney

I settled back against my pillows, enjoying this more than I probably should.

“Well, you see, Dad always wanted to give back to the community. We came up with this plan to turn the house into a safe space for kids who don’t have anyone looking out for them. Indoor swings, ball pits, inflatable castles, art stations… the works.”

“You can’t be serious,” Kyle growled.

Kids playing on an inflatable castle | Source: Pexels

Kids playing on an inflatable castle | Source: Pexels

“Oh, I am, brother! And the best part? It’s all in Dad’s will. The new owner — that’s you now — is legally obligated to maintain it as is and complete the renovations.”

“Renovations?” Kyle’s voice rose to a squeak.

“Yep. Remember how Dad loved that candy house from Hansel and Gretel? Well, starting next week, the house exterior is getting a makeover. Candy canes, gumdrops, the works. And guess who’s footing the bill?”

The silence on the other end was deafening.

A Hansel and Gretel fairytale-themed house | Source: Midjourney

A Hansel and Gretel fairytale-themed house | Source: Midjourney

“You knew,” Kyle finally said, his voice brimming with awe and fury. “You knew all this when you gave me the house.”

“I did! Consider it a lesson in being careful what you wish for.”

“Joe, please. You have to take it back. I can’t do this.”

For a moment, I was tempted. But then I remembered all the times Kyle had turned his back on us, all the lonely nights Dad had spent wondering why his eldest son didn’t care.

A sad old man sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels

A sad old man sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels

“I’m sorry, Kyle,” I said, not feeling sorry at all. “But you wanted the house. It’s yours now, with all its responsibilities. Maybe spending time with those kids will teach you something about family.”

“But the money,” Kyle protested weakly. “I can’t afford all this. I want the money Dad left in his will.”

“The money Dad left for the renovations?” I laughed. “I’m donating it to the orphanage. They need it more than either of us.”

Wads of money in a plastic bag | Source: Midjourney

Wads of money in a plastic bag | Source: Midjourney

As Kyle’s pleas turned to sobs, my heart lightened.

“Joe, you don’t understand. My company isn’t doing well. I needed this house as collateral for a loan. I thought I could fix everything.”

“Oh, why didn’t you just ask for help?”

“Because I’m supposed to be the successful one!” he shouted, then his voice dropped to a whisper. “I couldn’t admit I was failing.”

An agitated man talking on the phone | Source: Freepik

An agitated man talking on the phone | Source: Freepik

For a moment, I saw the brother I used to know — scared, vulnerable, human.

But I also remembered the years of neglect and the pain in Dad’s eyes every time Kyle missed a holiday or birthday.

A sad, old man looking at his birthday cake | Source: Pexels

A sad, old man looking at his birthday cake | Source: Pexels

“Listen, Kyle, I can’t take the house back. But maybe we can figure something out. Come over tomorrow. We’ll talk.”

There was a long pause before Kyle responded, his voice barely audible. “Okay. Thank you, Joe.”

A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

As I hung up, I looked around my small farmhouse. It wasn’t much, but it was mine. And somewhere out there, a group of kids were about to get the playhouse of their dreams. Dad would have loved that.

I smiled, thinking of the conversation ahead with Kyle. It wouldn’t be easy, but maybe, we could start rebuilding our family. After all, that’s what Dad would have wanted.

And really, that was all that mattered.

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

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