The day my stepmother passed away, the house was filled with all sorts of gossip. Relatives said that she was being favored, because she left her biological son – my half-brother – a whopping 115 million pesos, while I only received a dilapidated house with peeling plaster walls and a crooked roof.
In their eyes, I was an abandoned child. Some even whispered:
“Fortunately she raised him, what more could she ask for?”
I smiled bitterly. Well, since my father died early, she adopted me. But how could I deny the truth: for many years, she loved her biological son more than me. So, when I heard the news of the division of the property, I was not surprised.
My younger brother Nam could not hide his joy. At the funeral, he whispered in my ear:
– Why did you take that dilapidated house? No one will buy it even if you sell it. I have 115 million pesos, I don’t have to work for the rest of my life.
His words were like a knife piercing my heart. I silently signed the papers to receive the old house, considering it as a last stick of incense for the unfinished relationship between my stepmother and me.
A few weeks later, I went to the house. It was isolated in the suburbs, the walls were patched, the wooden door was rotten. People said it should be demolished and rebuilt. I called the workers.
The sound of hammers hitting the wall was loud. Suddenly a worker shouted:
– Hey man, what’s on the wall?
I rushed forward. Behind the old bricks, a safe appeared. I was shaking, my heart pounding. The entire team stopped, their mouths hanging open.
I spent almost an hour opening the safe. There was no gold or silver inside, or any money, but a thick stack of papers and a notebook.
Opening the first page, I recognized a familiar handwriting – it was my stepmother’s.
“If you are reading this, it means I am gone. Don’t be sad when you see that I left Nam 115 million pesos. I deliberately gave him that money because I knew he was greedy for material things, and that was also the tie that bound him. As for you, I believe you are strong enough to keep this secret.”
I flipped through the pages. The documents underneath were land sale contracts, company shares, and real estate titles – the total estimated value was several times higher than 115 million pesos. All in my name.
My legs felt weak. It turns out that the dilapidated house is not the “abandoned” part, but the place where my stepmother hid all her real possessions.
In the notebook, she added:
“The day your father passed away, I swo to take care of you as my own child. But I know that all your life will always feel that I am biased. Actually, I have to do this. Nam is hot-tempered, if I don’t let him think that he is getting worse, he will be impulsive, he will get angry. Forgive me. This is the family’s know how to use it right-tempered.”
Tears streamed down my face. In the seven years I had been with him, I thought he didn’t love me. Now, every trembling letter showed me a deep, quiet love.
The news of the safe spread quickly. Nam suddenly rushed over, shouting:
– This is not fair! Why did he leave everything to you? I am his biological child!
I gave him the notebook to read. After a few lines, his face turned pale. He threw the notebook away and cried like a child. After years of being spoiled, he finally understood that the 115 million pesos he was holding were really just “bait.”
I looked at him, my voice choked:
– Mom is not mad at you. She just wants you to live a decent life. Don’t let money drown you.
Nam fell down, covering her face. The halo of wealth disappeared, leaving only the pain of accepting the truth: her mother had “tied” her with money her entire life.
As for me, I chose to use that property to open a scholarship fund in my stepmother’s name, to help orphans like I had experienced. I want people to remember her not with the word “favorite,” but with the love she silently gave.
That night, I burned incense in front of her picture. For the first time in many years, I called her “Mom” in full, without hesitation.
That night, I burned incense in front of her picture. For the first time in years, I called her “Mom” in full, without hesitation.
Outside, the wind blew through the broken window, gently moving the thin curtain. I thought I heard her smile, and peace after all.