At my grandmother’s funeral, I saw my mother slip a mysterious package into the casket. Later, curiosity led me to open it—and the secrets inside shattered my world forever.

Grief hit me like missing stairs in the dark. Grandma Catherine wasn’t just family—she was my best friend. Standing beside her coffin felt like learning to breathe with half a lung.

I was lost in memories when I noticed my mother, Victoria, secretly place something small in the casket. Given their strained relationship, it seemed wrong, but I dismissed it. Yet the feeling of unease lingered.

After most of the mourners had left, I approached the casket again, compelled to investigate. Hidden beneath her dress was a small package wrapped in blue cloth. I wrestled with guilt but knew I had to find out what it was. Inside, I found letters from Grandma to my mother, revealing a painful truth: my mother had been stealing from Grandma to fund her gambling addiction.

Each letter chronicled years of betrayal, culminating in one final letter from Grandma, leaving everything to me and cutting my mother off. But there was one more—a letter my mother wrote after Grandma’s death, confirming her greed.

The next day, I met my mother for coffee, where I handed her a package containing the letters, including one I’d written to her. In it, I threatened to expose her actions if she ever tried to manipulate me. Her tearful response confirmed everything, but I couldn’t trust her anymore.

I walked away, leaving her with the weight of her lies, knowing that some secrets can’t stay buried forever.