Man Finds a Smashed Phone on the Roadside—When He Inserts the SIM Card Into His Own Phone and Calls ‘Daughter,’ His Heart Stops

They usually say curiosity got the cat, but in my situation, it helped a desperate family find the help they had needed for a long time. My curiosity on the day I found that broken phone also ended up leading to a happy life I never anticipated.

It was a crisp morning when I stepped out of my house, the autumn air cool against my face. My mother, Helen, had already started breakfast, and like every morning, I was on my way to the bakery to pick up fresh rolls for her. Little did I know that this was going to be a very eventful day for both of us.

A man and his mother | Source: Midjourney

A man and his mother | Source: Midjourney

It was my mother’s and my little tradition to have breakfast together—something that made our small world feel stable. You’re probably wondering why a 30-year-old successful man would live with his mother.

See, I never knew my father. He’d abandoned my mother when she told him about her pregnancy. So my mother was as lonely as I was, and to prevent that, we decided to live together.

A man living with his mother | Source: Midjourney

A man living with his mother | Source: Midjourney

What about my romantic life, you ask? Well, I’m not exactly a social butterfly—never have been. My lack of conventional good looks also means that dating has always been a struggle, and I’d long given up trying. Instead, I poured myself into my programming work, spending my days coding and my nights tinkering with gadgets.

That morning, as I strolled down the sidewalk, my sneaker scuffed against something hard. I looked down and saw it—a phone, its screen shattered like a spiderweb, lying in the grass just off the curb.

A broken phone | Source: Midjourney

A broken phone | Source: Midjourney

With my curiosity piqued, I picked it up. The casing was dented, the back partially peeled off, as if it had been run over by a car. It wasn’t a model worth much—an older keypad phone, the kind you only saw in hands that couldn’t afford better.

I turned it over in my hand, seeing an interesting challenge. “Maybe I can fix it,” I murmured.

Slipping it into my pocket, I continued to the bakery, but the phone was on my mind the entire time. It wasn’t just the damage—it was the way it was just lying there, abandoned, as if someone had discarded it in a hurry.

A man at a bakery | Source: Midjourney

A man at a bakery | Source: Midjourney

By the time I arrived back home, I had forgotten about the broken phone tucked into my pocket. My mom and I had the delicious breakfast she prepared before we set about our Saturday. Remembering the broken phone, I pulled out my own and removed its SIM card.

If the old phone was dead, maybe the SIM card inside still worked, I thought. I carefully slid it into my backup phone and powered it on. A list of contacts appeared. Most were hospitals, schools, and emergency services. Only one number was marked as a favorite—”Daughter.”

A man looking at his phone | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his phone | Source: Midjourney

Something tightened in my chest. Who had lost this phone? And why did it seem like the only person they truly cared about was this “Daughter”? On impulse, I dialed the number. It rang once. Then twice.

A small, excited voice eventually answered. “Mom?!”

My breath caught. “I—no, I’m not your mom. I’m sorry for calling,” I quickly replied, ready to drop the call, but the next thing the little girl said made me pause.

“Where is she?” Her voice wavered slightly.

A worried man on a call | Source: Midjourney

A worried man on a call | Source: Midjourney

“Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t know,” I admitted. “I found a broken phone and used its SIM card. Who are you?” I asked curiously, sensing that something was wrong.

The girl hesitated. “Julie. My mom went to the store yesterday and didn’t come back,” she revealed, her voice cracking with emotion.

A cold feeling spread through me. “Julie, where’s your dad, grandma, or anyone I can speak to?”

“I don’t have a dad,” she said softly. “Or a grandma. Just Mom.”

I swallowed. “Do you know where you live?”

“Independence Street. Building seven, apartment 18.”

A rundown apartment building | Source: Midjourney

A rundown apartment building | Source: Midjourney

My hands gripped the phone tighter. “Okay, Julie, are you okay? Are you alone right now?”

“Yes, I’m okay and alone,” she whispered. “But my legs don’t work. I can’t leave.”

I stood abruptly. “Your legs—what do you mean?”

“I have a wheelchair,” she said simply. “But it’s hard to move with no one around to help me. I’m scared.”

I didn’t hesitate as my protective instincts kicked in. “Julie, listen carefully. My name is Alan, and I’m coming to get you. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied weakly before I dropped the phone.

A little girl on a call | Source: Midjourney

A little girl on a call | Source: Midjourney

My mother, who had been listening, immediately grabbed her coat. “You’re not going alone,” she said firmly. “If there’s a child in trouble, we need to help.”

This wasn’t how I had imagined spending my weekend, but it felt like the right thing to do. Finding that phone when I did was fate. We caught a cab and arrived at the apartment complex in less than fifteen minutes.

It was a run-down building, the kind with flickering hallway lights and mailboxes stuffed with overdue bills.

I held my breath as I knocked on Apartment Eighteen, uncertain of what I’d find.

A man about to knock on a door | Source: Midjourney

A man about to knock on a door | Source: Midjourney

A soft, hesitant voice came through the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s Alan,” I said. “I spoke to you on the phone.”

She replied, “The door’s open. Come in.”

The door creaked when I pushed it open just a few inches. A tiny and frail little girl, no older than six or seven, peered up at me from a wheelchair in the makeshift living room. Her hair was unkempt, her face pale and full of sadness, and she looked at me with tired, wide eyes.

My heart clenched.

A frail sad girl | Source: Midjourney

A frail sad girl | Source: Midjourney

“Will you find my mom?” she asked, her voice trembling, tears in her eyes.

At that moment, I understood that the journey ahead would uncover truths I wasn’t ready to face, but it was too late to turn back now.

So I knelt in front of her and said, “We will, I promise. But first, let’s make sure you’re okay. Do you have food?”

She shook her head. “I ate a sandwich yesterday. That was the last one.”

“I’ll go find something in a bit,” I comforted her.

Taking a breath of resignation, I asked, “Julie, what’s your mom’s name?”

“Victoria,” she said softly. “She never leaves me alone this long.”

That only made my anxiety worse.

A anxious man | Source: Midjourney

A anxious man | Source: Midjourney

“She is the best mom ever and usually returns when she goes out to run errands, but this time, she didn’t. I tried calling her, but her number didn’t go through. None of the neighbors would come to check on me because people here keep to themselves,” the little girl confessed.

My heart ached, and my mind raced. I realized that this wasn’t a simple case. Something was terribly wrong. Julie’s mother had gone missing, and now she was alone, in a wheelchair, unable to move properly, with no one to rely on.

A sad little girl in a wheelchair | Source: Midjourney

A sad little girl in a wheelchair | Source: Midjourney

But we were here now, so I said, “I’m going to look for food. My mom, Helen, will stay here with you, okay?”

“Okay,” Julie replied.

When I returned, my mother quickly prepared food for the little girl, who scarfed it down hungrily as we sat together. I knew we couldn’t waste time. We needed to find Victoria as soon as possible.

Whipping out my phone, I searched online, checking news reports, and my stomach dropped when I found it: a woman had been hit by a Ford yesterday on Parkova Street. She was in critical condition at a local hospital.

A woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

I called immediately but had to ring more than once to get through the busy line.

“Yes,” the nurse who answered confirmed after I explained who I was and that I was with Victoria’s worried daughter. “She was admitted yesterday. She’s stable now but unconscious. We couldn’t reach any family.”

My chest tightened. “I’m coming,” I said without bothering to wait for a response.

My mother and I decided it would be best if we dropped Julie off at our apartment while we went to confirm whether the patient at the hospital was really her mother.

A nice apartment building | Source: Midjourney

A nice apartment building | Source: Midjourney

We had to reassure Julie that she was safe with our friendly neighbor, Maureen, who gladly offered to watch her in our absence.

When Helen and I got to the hospital, I explained everything to the staff. The nurse hesitated but eventually said, “She just regained consciousness. She’s very weak, and her condition is still quite serious, but I’ll try talking to her about everything. Maybe she’ll want to see you.”

When the nurse returned, she had a hopeful smile. “She’s willing to see you, but please don’t take too long. She needs her rest.”

A happy nurse | Source: Midjourney

A happy nurse | Source: Midjourney

We entered her room cautiously. Victoria was pale, her face bruised. Her eyes fluttered open when I stepped closer.

“Who…?” she rasped.

“My name is Alan, and this is my mother, Helen,” I said gently. “I found your phone, and I spoke to Julie. She’s waiting for you.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Julie… is she okay?!”

I nodded. “She’s scared, but she’s alright. She’s been waiting for you to come home.”

Victoria turned away, guilt written all over her face. “I never wanted this.”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

I pulled up a chair. “Victoria, what happened?”

She swallowed. “I was hit on my way to get medicine for Julie. She has a condition… I’ve been trying to save up for surgery, but it’s impossible. I have no family. I was adopted as a child—no relatives, no safety net. I’m an orphan. It’s just been me and Julie for as long as I can remember.”

My heart ached for her.

“We weren’t supposed to be in this situation. After I divorced Julie’s abusive father, I was left with nothing, and I’ve been struggling ever since. My ex-husband and his family won’t help me, and I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

A mean-looking man | Source: Midjourney

A mean-looking man | Source: Midjourney

She continued, her voice shaking. “I never wanted Julie to feel abandoned, but I was too scared to reach out for help. I thought if I kept quiet about our situation, maybe no one would find out how I’d failed as a parent.”

“I couldn’t afford a car, so I walked everywhere. Last night, I was hurrying home when the accident happened. I was so scared when I came to, not for myself, but because I knew Julie was alone,” she revealed.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

I exhaled, gripping the arms of my chair. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Her gaze lifted, wary but hopeful.

I made a decision right then. “I’ll help you. Julie deserves a chance.”

I reached out to some contacts, and with the help of donations and a specialist, we arranged for Julie to have surgery. It was a long process, but one that changed everything.

A little girl ready for surgery | Source: Midjourney

A little girl ready for surgery | Source: Midjourney

Months later, I watched as Julie took her first steps. It was shaky, and she clung to my hand, but she was walking! Victoria, who had fully recovered, stood beside me, tears streaming down her face. She turned to me, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” I said.

A man and woman talking | Source: Midjourney

A man and woman talking | Source: Midjourney

We became something more than just strangers who had crossed paths. Over time, Julie and I grew close, and my bond with her mother deepened because of the love we had for her. Eventually, our relationship turned into something deeper.

I never expected to have a family, but now, standing beside the woman I’d fallen in love with and married, and the little girl whom I had saved and adopted, I realized I had found one.

And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

A happy family | Source: Midjourney

A happy family | Source: Midjourney

Here’s another story to keep you entertained. When Charlotte’s fiancé failed to arrive on their wedding day, her world shattered into a million pieces. Finding strength in her friends and family, she made the most of the occasion and found something unexpected.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My Mom Told Me Not to Visit for 3 Months Due to ‘Renovations’ — When I Decided to Surprise Her, I Discovered the Gory Truth She Was Hiding

For three months, Mia’s mom insisted she stay away while her house was being renovated. But something didn’t sit right. When Mia arrives unannounced, she finds the door unlocked, the house eerily pristine, and a strange smell in the air. Mia is about to stumble upon a devastating secret.

The city was just waking up as I drove through its empty streets. Early morning light painted everything in soft hues, but I couldn’t shake this gnawing feeling in my gut. Something was wrong.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. Mom’s voice echoed in my head as my memory replayed all those hurried phone calls and weird excuses. “Oh, honey, I can’t have you over. The house is a mess with all these renovations.”

But three months without seeing her? That wasn’t like us. We used to be thick as thieves, her and me.

I worried about what had changed as I waited at an intersection. Mom had always been house-proud, constantly tweaking and updating our home. But this felt different.

An intersection | Source: Pexels

An intersection | Source: Pexels

Her voice on the phone lately… she always sounded so tired. Sad, even. And every time I’d try to press her on it, she’d brush me off. “Don’t worry about me, Mia. How’s that big project at work going? Have you gotten that promotion yet?”

I knew she was keeping something from me, and I’d let it slide for far too long.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

So here I was, way too early on a Saturday morning, driving across town because I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was terribly wrong.

As I pulled up to Mom’s house, my heart sank. The garden, usually Mom’s pride and joy, was overgrown and neglected. Weeds poked through the flower beds, and the rosebushes looked like they hadn’t seen pruning shears in months.

“What the hell?” I muttered. I killed the engine and rushed to the gate.

A woman walking up a front path | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking up a front path | Source: Midjourney

I walked up to the front door, my footsteps echoing in the quiet morning. When I tried the handle, it turned easily. Unlocked. That wasn’t like Mom at all.

Fear prickled across my skin as I stepped inside. There was no dust, or building materials in sight. No sign of a drop cloth or any paint cans either. And what was that smell? Sharp and citrusy. The place was too clean, too sterile. Like a hospital.

“Mom?” I called out.

No answer.

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

My eyes swept the entryway, landing on a familiar photo on the side table. It was us at the beach when I was maybe seven or eight. I was grinning at the camera, gap-toothed and sunburned, while Mom hugged me from behind, laughing.

The glass was smudged with fingerprints, mostly over my face. That was weird. Mom was always wiping things down, keeping everything spotless. But this… it looked like someone had been touching the photo a lot, almost frantically.

A chill ran down my spine.

A woman holding a framed photo | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a framed photo | Source: Midjourney

“Mom?” I called again, louder this time. “You here?”

That’s when I heard it. A faint creaking came from upstairs.

My heart raced as I climbed the stairs. The quiet felt heavy, pressing in on me from all sides. I tried to steady my breathing as I walked down the hallway toward Mom’s room.

“Mom?” My voice came out as a whisper now. “It’s me. It’s Mia.”

I pushed open her bedroom door, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

A bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

A bedroom door | Source: Unsplash

There she was, struggling to sit up in bed. But this… this couldn’t be my mother. The woman before me was frail and gaunt, her skin sallow against the white sheets. And her hair… oh God, her beautiful hair was gone, replaced by a scarf wrapped around her head.

“Mia?” Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

I stood frozen in the doorway, my mind refusing to process what I was seeing.

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

“Mom? What… what happened to you?”

She looked at me with those familiar brown eyes, now sunken in her pale face. “Oh, honey,” she sighed. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

I stumbled to her bedside, dropping to my knees. “Find out what? Mom, please, tell me what’s going on.”

She reached out a thin hand, and I clasped it in both of mine. It felt so fragile, like a bird’s bones.

“I have cancer, Mia,” she said softly.

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

People holding hands | Source: Pexels

Time stopped and my world narrowed down to how dry her lips looked as she spoke and the hollow feeling in my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

“… undergoing chemotherapy for the past few months,” she finished.

“Cancer? But… but why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep this from me?”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I didn’t want to burden you, sweetheart. You’ve been working so hard for that promotion. I thought… I thought I could handle this on my own.”

A woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

Anger flared up inside me, hot and sudden. “Handle it on your own? Mom, I’m your daughter! I should have been here! I should have known!”

“Mia, please,” she pleaded. “I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to see me like this, so weak and…”

“Protect me?” I cut her off, my voice rising as tears blurred my vision. “By lying to me? By keeping me away when you needed me most? How could you do that?”

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

Mom’s face crumpled, and she started to cry, too. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Mia. I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

I climbed onto the bed beside her, careful not to jostle her too much, and pulled her into my arms.

“Oh, Mom,” I whispered. “You could never be a burden to me. Never.”

We sat there for a long time, just holding each other and crying. All the fear and pain of the past few months came pouring out.

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

When we finally calmed down, I helped Mom get more comfortable, propping her up with pillows. Then I went downstairs and made us both some tea, my mind reeling with everything I’d learned.

Back in her room, I perched on the edge of the bed, handing her a steaming mug. “So,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”

And she did. She told me about the diagnosis, the shock, and the fear. How she’d started treatment right away, hoping to beat it before I even knew something was wrong.

A woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

“But it spread so fast,” she said, her voice trembling. “By the time I realized how bad it was, I was already so sick.”

I took her hand again, squeezing gently. “Mom, don’t you get it? I love you. All of you. Even the sick parts, even the scared parts. Especially those parts. That’s what family is for.”

She looked at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and regret. “I just… I’ve always been the strong one, you know? Your rock. I didn’t know how to be anything else.”

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

A woman glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney

I smiled through my tears. “Well, now it’s my turn to be the rock. I’m not going anywhere, Mom. We’re in this together, okay?”

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay.”

I moved back in with Mom later that week. I also took time off work and called in every favor I could to get Mom the best care possible, even if all we could do was keep her as comfortable as possible.

We spent her final days together, sharing stories and memories, laughing and crying together. And when the end came, I was right there beside her.

A woman lying beside her mother | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying beside her mother | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry, Mia,” she whispered. “I wanted… I never took you to Disneyland… I promised to take you camping in the mountains… so many promises I’ve broken…”

“It’s not important.” I moved closer to her on the bed. “What matters is that you were always there for me when I needed you. You always knew how to make me smile when I was sad, or make everything better when I messed something up.” I sniffed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Mom.”

Her eyes cracked open, and she smiled faintly at me.

Close up of a woman's eyes | Source: Midjourney

Close up of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

“You’re going to be okay, Mia. You’re so strong… my amazing daughter. I love you so much.”

I put my arms around her and hugged her as tightly as I dared. I’m not sure exactly when she slipped away, but when I eventually pulled back, Mom was gone.

I stayed there for a long time, trying to hold onto the warmth of our last hug as sobs racked my body, replaying her last words in my mind. Trying to keep her with me, no matter how impossible that was.

A woman grieving | Source: Midjourney

A woman grieving | Source: Midjourney

Saying goodbye to Mom was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I wouldn’t trade those moments I spent with her for anything in the world.

Because in the end, that’s what love is. It’s showing up, even when it’s hard. It’s being there, even in the darkest moments. It’s holding on tight and never letting go.

Here’s another story: My name is Larissa, and I’m just a regular woman trying to keep up with the demands of life. Between work and everything else, I sometimes forget to slow down and focus on what really matters. But nothing could have prepared me for the day I returned to my childhood home, only to find it reduced to rubble and my mother missing.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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