While My Family Battled Over Grandma’s Will, I Was the Only One Who Took Her Beloved Dog and Uncovered the Secret She Left Behind — Story of the Day

When my grandmother passed away, my relatives rushed straight to her house, eager to locate her will. I was the only one who took her aging dog home, unaware that she carried more than memories of Grandma with her. A few days later, I uncovered the secret Grandma had hidden in the one place no one else thought to search.

In my family, there were only two ways to get everyone together. You either had to put money on the table or wait for someone to die. That day, sadly, it was both.

I stood at the cemetery, watching as Grandma’s coffin was lowered into the ground.

I gripped Berta’s leash tightly as she strained forward, whining softly, as if she wanted to follow Grandma.

Berta was Grandma’s dog. She’d gotten her when I was still a child, and Grandma often said Berta was her closest companion and nearly the only soul she truly trusted.

Grandma was kind, but she was also very particular.

She had accumulated a substantial fortune over her lifetime, yet she never handed out money to her children or grandchildren. Instead, she paid for everyone’s education. She believed people should build their lives on their own, rising from nothing the way she once had.

Because of that belief, my mother, my aunt, my uncle, and their children barely spoke to Grandma or even mentioned her until the day she died.

I studied their faces at the graveside. I knew exactly why they had shown up. Money.

They hoped that even if she hadn’t helped them in life, she would finally give them something in death. But knowing Grandma, it was never going to be that simple.

For the last six months of her life, Grandma had been very ill, and I moved in to care for her.

Juggling that with my nursing job wasn’t easy, but I managed.

I knew she was grateful that at least one person stayed by her side through those final months.

Still, she never made things easier for me. I remembered the day I got hit with a massive car repair bill.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to pay for this,” I told her.

“You’re strong,” Grandma replied calmly. “You’ll figure it out.”

I hadn’t expected anything else. She never made exceptions, not even for me. But she always encouraged me and gave me guidance, and for that, I was grateful.

After the funeral, everyone went back to Grandma’s house for the reading of the will. Knowing my family, I packed my belongings in advance.

I knew they wouldn’t let me stay there long. While we waited for the lawyer, no one spoke. We just exchanged cold, hostile looks.

Eventually, Aunt Florence broke the silence. “Meredith, remind me, what kind of doctor are you again?” she asked.

“I’m a nurse,” I answered.

“A nurse?” Uncle Jack echoed in disbelief. “You’ll never make real money that way. Tom owns a car company, and Alice runs several beauty salons,” he said, gesturing toward my cousins, who sat there smugly.

“I help people,” I said. “That’s enough for me.”

“I can’t believe I gave birth to her,” my mother muttered.

I spoke to her only three times a year. On my birthday, her birthday, and Christmas. Always by phone.

The doorbell rang. When no one moved to answer it, I got up and opened the door myself.

Mr. Johnson, the lawyer handling Grandma’s estate, stood outside. I led him into the living room, where the family sat stiffly.

He stayed standing.

“This won’t take long,” he said evenly. “There isn’t much to discuss.”

“What do you mean?” my mother snapped. “What about the will?”

“She had to leave something,” Uncle Jack added impatiently.

“It appears Cassandra chose not to,” Mr. Johnson replied.

“What?” Aunt Florence asked sharply.

“None of you are receiving any inheritance,” he said flatly.

The room erupted with angry gasps.

“That’s impossible!” my mother shouted. “We’re her family! Who gets the house and the money then?”

“I’m not authorized to share that information,” Mr. Johnson said. “And now, I need you all to leave the property.”

No one moved.

“That old witch!” Uncle Jack yelled. “I knew she didn’t care about us, but not leaving us a single penny?”

“That’s not true,” I said quickly. “Grandma cared. She just showed it differently.”

“Oh please,” my mother scoffed. “She was cruel in life and cruel in death.”

At that moment, Berta barked loudly.

“And what about that dog?” Aunt Florence asked.

“Put her down,” my mother said coldly.

“She’s ancient,” Uncle Jack agreed.

“You can’t!” I shouted.

“Then what do you suggest?” my mother snapped. “Better than dumping her on the street.”

“Grandma loved Berta. Someone should take her,” I said.

Laughter rippled through the room.

“If you want the dog, take it,” my mother said. “She didn’t care about us, so why should we care about her dog?”

“My lease doesn’t allow pets,” I said quietly.

“Then it’s settled. We’ll put her down,” Uncle Jack declared.

“Tom? Alice?” I pleaded.

Tom waved me off. Alice shook her head. “No chance. I’m not taking a flea-covered dog.”

I sighed deeply. “Fine. I’ll take her.”

Mr. Johnson cleared his throat. “Please leave now,” he said firmly. “You no longer have the right to be here.”

“Who does?” my mother shouted. “We grew up in this house!”

“If you don’t leave, I will contact the police,” Mr. Johnson warned.

One by one, they stormed out. I gathered Berta’s belongings, loaded them into my car, helped her into the back seat, and drove to my apartment.

My landlord reluctantly agreed to let me keep Berta for a while, raising the rent slightly.

I had already accepted the possibility that we might struggle.

It was clear Berta missed Grandma as much as I did. Grandma had been the only one in my family who truly supported me. She paid for my education, asked about my work, and celebrated every patient I helped recover.

I missed her deeply.

One day, after a night shift, someone knocked on my door.

I opened it and froze. My mother stood there.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I know you have it!” she yelled.

“Have what?” I asked.

“I know you inherited everything!” she screamed.

“All I got was Berta,” I said.

“What?” she snapped.

“Grandma’s dog.”

“Don’t lie!” she shouted. “You lived with her. She left it all to you. You were her favorite.”

“She gave me nothing, just like she gave you nothing,” I replied.

“You owe me!” she screamed. “I gave birth to you!”

“I have nothing!” I cried.

“We’ll see,” she hissed before storming off.

I collapsed to the floor in tears. Berta climbed into my lap. As I stroked her, I noticed something engraved on her collar.

An address. And the number 153.

I removed the collar and studied it. The address led to the train station. The number looked like a locker.

Then I noticed the tag could be opened. Inside was a tiny key.

I went straight to the station, found locker 153, and unlocked it.

Inside was a folder labeled “For Meredith.”

There was a handwritten note and several documents. I read the note.

Grandma wrote that she wanted her life’s earnings to go to someone with a pure heart. Everything would belong to the person who chose to care for Berta, without knowing there would be a reward.

That person was me.

The documents were her will.

“I knew you were hiding something,” my mother’s voice suddenly rang out.

Uncle Jack appeared as well, admitting he had hired a private investigator.

They demanded the will.

Before I could respond, Mr. Johnson stepped in.

“The estate belongs to Meredith,” he said calmly. “Any interference will involve the police.”

I sat shaking as Mr. Johnson escorted me to my car.

“She wanted her money to be used for good,” he explained.

“I’ll donate most of it to the hospital,” I said softly.

“It’s yours to decide,” he replied.

In that moment, I missed Grandma more than ever, but I promised myself I would honor her trust.