My grandmother claimed to be deaf in order to test us. I shall never forget my family’s expressions when they gathered to hear the will
My grandmother was quite wealthy, so everyone in our family, especially my uncle and aunt, had their sights set on her inheritance. In essence, they stated that they wanted her home.
Unfortunately, my grandmother passed away. A few days after the funeral, her lawyer summoned the entire family to his office so he could read the will. As the seven of us walked in, we saw seven small boxes and seven envelopes arranged on a large table.
With a sly smile, the attorney continued, “Please, sit down.” I had a feeling something was about to happen. He turned to me and said, “Your grandmother left something different for you.” “You can all open your envelopes now!” he exclaimed. You should have seen my uncle’s face when he opened his mail. There was.
My granny was a very affluent, attentive, bright, and independent woman.
The whole family knew it, and it seemed like nearly everyone was just waiting for her to pass away so they could finally get their “rightful” share of her fortune. My uncle and aunt were ecstatic.
A year before she died, Grandma said she had lost her hearing. Everyone believed her, even though I witnessed strange things. For example, she would supposedly “accidentally” react to stuff she couldn’t hear.
Once, while we were in a different room, talking quietly on the phone, she made a sudden comment on something I had just said. That’s when I started to suspect things.
While we were preparing a family supper, I once overheard my uncle and aunt giggling in the kitchen as they decided which room in Grandma’s house they would each occupy.
They called her “a crazy old hag” and complained that she “was living way too long.” I turned to look at Grandma because I felt like someone was listening to what I had to say.
She was standing in the doorway, staring right at me. She said nothing. She merely smiled and nodded slightly.
That night, Grandma and I sat down and talked about it in great detail. She wasn’t just acting; she had a plan. When the relatives thought Grandma was “deaf,” we began documenting every interaction they had with her.
Every slight, every obscene, egotistical remark, even discussions about how to “conveniently” split her money. Flash disks were used to store the recordings. They were exactly seven in number. A single one for each family member.
A week later, Grandma passed away peacefully in her sleep.
A few days after the funeral, the lawyer called the whole family to his office. On the big table were seven small boxes and seven envelopes. The lawyer smiled slightly as he greeted us:
— Please sit down. Each of you has a “gift.” He gave me a quick look, but your grandmother left you something else besides you. Everyone else, open your envelopes.
At that moment, things became rather interesting.
Inside each relative’s mail, a flash drive was found. They connected them to laptops at the same time. Suddenly their own voices filled the room.
Grandma’s house should be demolished and sold, according to one suggestion. Another person laughed and said she “wasn’t in her right mind anymore.” It was even suggested to “speed up the process.”
There was silence in the room.
My uncle turned as pale as a corpse. When my aunt tried to remove the flash drive, it was too late because everyone had already heard everything. With composure, the lawyer stood up and said:
According to the will, none of you will receive a single penny. She is bequeathing the house, possessions, money, and antiques to her granddaughter.
I was both proud and depressed when I left that office. Despite her passing, my grandmother’s dignity was preserved. And the expressions on my relatives’ faces… I’ll never forget them.
