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A man and a young lady | Source: Shutterstock A man and a young lady | Source: Shutterstock My Late Mom Left Me a Trust Fund, but My Dad Took Money from It for His Stepdaughter — I Finally Retaliated Rita Kumar By Rita Kumar Mar 07, 2025 08:37 A.M. Shareshare-button Share this pen FacebookFacebook XX LinkedInLinkedIn EmailEmail https://thecelebritist.com/my-late-mom-left-me-a-trust-fund-but-my-2/ Copy Link My mom was my everything, and when cancer took her, she left me memories and a lifeline — a trust fund meant for my future. When my dad greedily started using it for his stepdaughter, it felt like he was erasing Mom’s memory piece by piece. I couldn’t let him take what was left of her or me. Advertisement There’s this thing about losing someone you love — you carry the weight of it forever, even if it doesn’t show. I lost my mom to breast cancer when I was ten. One day, she was there, brushing my hair and humming to some old rock song, and the next, she was gone. Just like that. A grieving young woman mourning before a loved one’s grave | Source: Freepik A grieving young woman mourning before a loved one’s grave | Source: Freepik I remember our last conversation like it was yesterday. She was sitting on her hospital bed, her fingers weakly running through my hair. “Promise me something, baby girl,” she whispered. “Anything, Mom,” I said, trying to hold back my tears. “Promise me you’ll never let anyone dim your light. You’re so special, Iris. So incredibly special.” Advertisement A sad woman sitting on a hospital bed | Source: Pexels A sad woman sitting on a hospital bed | Source: Pexels She didn’t leave me with much — just a few photos, the smell of her favorite vanilla perfume lingering on her scarves, and a trust fund she set up for me before she passed. “This is for Iris,” she’d told my dad and my grandparents. “For her education and her future. Promise me she’ll always have it.” They promised. My dad promised too. But promises don’t mean much when someone’s not around to hold you to them. A trust agreement on a table | Source: Midjourney A trust agreement on a table | Source: Midjourney Advertisement My dad remarried two years later. His new wife, Marianne, came with her own baggage: a twelve-year-old daughter named Emily. I didn’t mind at first. Mom was gone, and I thought maybe this could be a new chapter. But I quickly learned how things would work in our house: Emily first, Marianne second, Dad somewhere in the mix, and me? Not even in the picture! An annoyed girl | Source: Pexels An annoyed girl | Source: Pexels It started small. Once, our fridge and shower broke at the same time. Dad took money from the trust fund without my permission to fix them. “I’ll pay it back,” he said like it was no big deal. A week later, he bought Emily a MacBook for her birthday. On mine? A $100 gift card. Advertisement It wasn’t the money — it was the message. Over the years, he kept dipping into the fund for car repairs, home renovations, and things that had nothing to do with me. “It’s just temporary,” he’d always say. But the withdrawals kept piling up, and the “temporary” excuses wore thin. A frustrated teenage girl | Source: Pexels A frustrated teenage girl | Source: Pexels By the time I got to college, I didn’t need the money for tuition because of my scholarship. That didn’t stop him from finding new ways to use it, though. Every time I brought it up, he brushed me off. “Don’t stress, Iris. It’s safe.” Safe. Right. “You understand, don’t you, Iris?” That’s what he’d always say when something I needed got pushed aside for Emily. New clothes for her pageant? Sure. My vacation? Maybe next year. It stung, but I swallowed it down. Advertisement But the swallowing got harder. I’ll never forget the day I realized how much of Mom’s trust fund was gone. It was late one night during my final year of college. I’d overheard Emily talking to her friends about how “Daddy” was covering the cost of her new car. My stomach twisted as I thought about the fund. A delighted woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney A delighted woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney “Can you believe it?” Emily squealed through the thin walls. “A brand new BMW! Daddy said I deserve it for making it to nationals!” My hands trembled as I sat at my desk, memories of Mom’s words echoing in my head: “This is for Iris. For her future.” It had been years since I’d seen the account. My dad had told me not to “stress over it.” But now, something felt off, and I decided to check it. Advertisement I logged into the account, and my heart sank. The numbers didn’t make sense. Thousands were missing. Pageant fees. A water heater. Emily’s car. Every withdrawal was like a punch in the gut. A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels By the time I closed my laptop, my hands were shaking. This wasn’t just money. It was Mom’s legacy. She’d trusted Dad to protect it, and he’d drained it like it was his personal wallet. I called my grandma the next morning. “Sweetheart,” she said after I told her everything. “This has gone on long enough. You have to stand up to him.” “I can’t breathe, Grandma,” I sobbed into the phone. “It feels like he’s erasing Mom piece by piece. Like he’s erasing ME.” Advertisement “Oh, my sweet girl,” she whispered. “Your mother would be furious right now. She fought so hard to make sure you’d be taken care of.” “I know,” I cried, my throat tight. “I trusted when he said he’d put the money back. But he’s only been draining Mom’s hard-earned money.” A worried older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney A worried older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney “Your mother was a fighter,” Grandma added. “And so are you. It’s time to show them that.” “I will when the right time comes,” I said, my heart heavy as I hung up. It all came to a head a week later. Graduation was around the corner, and I was finally ready to celebrate after four years of sleepless nights and busted printer deadlines. I called Dad and told him I was graduating on December 20th. I could hear the pause on the other end of the line, long enough for my stomach to drop. Advertisement A woman calling her father | Source: Midjourney A woman calling her father | Source: Midjourney “Oh, December 20th?” he said finally. “That’s when Emily’s pageant is. We’ve already made plans.” “You’re missing my graduation for a pageant?” “Ah, c’mon, Iris. Graduation’s not a big deal. You’ll have more of those. But this pageant? It’s her chance to shine.” I didn’t even realize I was gripping my phone so hard until my fingers started to hurt. “You’re kidding, right?” A woman engrossed in a phonecall | Source: Pexels A woman engrossed in a phonecall | Source: Pexels Advertisement I heard Marianne chime in, her tone dripping with condescension from the background. “Don’t be selfish, Iris. Graduations happen all the time. Emily’s pageant is once-in-a-lifetime.” “Selfish?” I spat. “Dad, this isn’t about being selfish. This is about you choosing Emily over me. Again.” “That’s not fair —” he protested. “Not fair? You want to talk about fair? When was the last time you chose me? When was the last time you even saw me?” A man on a phonecall | Source: Midjourney A man on a phonecall | Source: Midjourney “Of course I see you, Iris.” “No, you DON’T!” The words burst out of me like a dam breaking. “You see Emily. You see her pageants and her dance recitals and her EVERYTHING. But me? I’m just the ghost in the corner. Mom’s leftover that you don’t know what to do with.” Advertisement “Iris, that’s enough!” “No, it’s not enough! It’s never been enough!” I cried, years of hurt pouring out. “Do you know what Mom’s last words to me were? She made me promise not to let anyone dim my light. But you’ve been doing exactly that for years, Dad. Years!” A furious woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels A furious woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels He sighed like I was being unreasonable. “We’ll celebrate when we’re back. I promise.” The word “promise” hit me like a slap. “Your promises don’t mean anything anymore,” I whispered. “They haven’t since Mom died.” I hung up without saying goodbye. My grandparents, at least, showed up for my graduation. Seeing their proud faces in the crowd made the day feel a little less lonely. They hugged me so tightly afterward, reminding me that someone still cared. I was happy, but I had one last thing to do. Advertisement A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney The next day, I walked into Dad’s office with the account statements in hand. My stomach was doing backflips, but I couldn’t let that stop me. “We need to talk,” I said, shutting the door behind me and dropping the papers on his desk. Dad looked up from his computer, frowning. “What’s this?” “The trust fund statement. Mom’s trust fund. The one you’ve been draining for years.” His face paled, but he tried to play it off. “Iris, come on. Everything I’ve spent was for the family. You’ve never needed it. You had a scholarship.” “That money wasn’t for the family,” I cut in. “It was for ME. For MY future. And you spent it on Emily. Don’t even try to deny it. The statements don’t lie.” Advertisement A stack of documents on a table | Source: Midjourney A stack of documents on a table | Source: Midjourney “You don’t understand what it’s like,” he stood up, his voice rising. “Being a father, trying to blend two families —” “And you don’t understand what it’s like watching your father erase every trace of your mother!” I shot back. “That money was the last thing she could give me, and you treated it like your personal ATM!” He leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. “I did what I had to do.” “No,” I said, standing my ground. “You did what was convenient for you. And now you’re going to pay it back. Every penny.” His laugh was bitter. “And if I don’t?” Advertisement “Then I’ll sue you.” A woman crossing her arms and pointing her finger at someone | Source: Pexels A woman crossing her arms and pointing her finger at someone | Source: Pexels The room went silent. For the first time in my life, I saw real fear in his eyes. “You wouldn’t,” he said finally. “Mom always said I had her backbone,” I replied. “Maybe it’s time you remembered that.” The fallout was as messy as I expected. My stepmom and stepsister called me, yelling through the phone. “How could you do this, Iris?” Marianne’s voice was shrill like I had personally burned their house down. “Do what?” I said, gripping my phone tighter. “Stand up for myself? Demand the respect I’ve never gotten from you people?” Advertisement An annoyed senior woman | Source: Midjourney An annoyed senior woman | Source: Midjourney “Don’t make this about you,” she snapped. “You’re punishing us because we couldn’t be in two places at once. You know how much Emily’s pageant meant to her!” “And my graduation didn’t mean anything to you,” I fired back. “I’ve had enough, Marianne. I’m done.” “How dare you? After everything we’ve done for you?” “Done for me?” I laughed hollowly. “What exactly have you done except try to replace everything about Mom?” A young woman laughing | Source: Midjourney A young woman laughing | Source: Midjourney Advertisement “I tried to be a mother to you!” “No,” I snapped. “You tried to erase my mother. There’s a difference.” She called me a “selfish” brat. But I didn’t back down. Under the U.S. law, she and Dad had no leg to stand on. My grandparents helped me draft the legal documents, and by the time I handed them over, Dad knew he was out of options. Read also Stories My Late Mom Left Me a Trust Fund, but My Dad Took Money from It for His Stepdaughter — I Finally Retaliated January 28, 2025 Stories 4 Times Entitled People Demanded or Took What Wasn’t Theirs and Got What They Deserved January 09, 2025 Evil Stepmothers Who Met Their Match: Stories of Karma Catching Up in the Most Unexpected Ways November 29, 2024 A month later, the money was back in my account. They’d taken out loans to do it, but that wasn’t my problem. I moved out the next week and settled into my grandparents’ house temporarily. It felt good to be somewhere warm and safe for once. A woman with a suitcase and bag | Source: Pexels A woman with a suitcase and bag | Source: Pexels Advertisement “You’ve always been stronger than you think, Iris,” Grandma said one night as we sat on the porch. She wrapped her cardigan around my shoulders, and it smelled like Mom’s vanilla perfume. “I didn’t feel strong,” I admitted, staring at the stars. “I just felt angry.” “Sometimes, anger is what we need to get moving,” she said with a smile. “Your mother… she knew this might happen, you know. That’s why she made us promise to watch over you.” “She did?” “Oh yes. She said, ‘My Iris might bend, but she’ll never break.’ She knew exactly who you were, sweetheart.” I handed her a check the next day, a portion of the repaid money. She tried to refuse it, but I insisted. “You and Grandpa have done more for me than anyone else ever has. Please. Let me do this.” A woman holding a check | Source: Midjourney A woman holding a check | Source: Midjourney Advertisement She hugged me so tightly that I thought I might break. “We’re so proud of you. And your mom… oh, she would be over the moon.” With the rest of the money, I enrolled in grad school and got my own apartment. It wasn’t fancy, but it was mine. One night, as I unpacked some boxes, I came across an old photo of Mom and me. She was holding me in her lap, her smile soft and warm. “I did it, Mom,” I whispered, running my fingers over the photo. “I kept my promise. I didn’t let them dim my light.” A woman holding an old photograph | Source: Midjourney A woman holding an old photograph | Source: Midjourney My phone buzzed with a message from Dad. But I didn’t open it. Advertisement Instead, I texted Grandma: “I think I’m finally free.” Her reply was immediate: “You are, sweetheart. You are. Your mother is probably dancing in heaven right now.” I set the phone aside and smiled, my eyes misty. For the first time in years, I felt like I was finally living for me. Living how Mom had always wanted me to… bright and unafraid. An emotional young woman | Source: Midjourney An emotional young woman | Source: Midjourney Here’s another story: Just a month after my mother’s death, my father easily moved on and brought his mistress home for Christmas. My heart shattered when he introduced her as my “NEW MOM.” However, it wasn’t the only thing that left me crushed. 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. Advertisement Advertisement Related posts Bride’s Mom Sees Groom Entering Bathroom with Bridesmaid in the Middle of Wedding – Story of the Day January 08, 2025 Stories My Parents Forbade Me from Moving Out — When I Discovered Their Real Reason, I Immediately Called the Police December 18, 2024 Stories of Stepkids Who Changed Their Stepparents’ Lives Forever December 24, 2024 Stories 6 Stories About In-Laws Who Went Too Far with Their Actions December 04, 2024 Stories 6 Stories of Little Kids Who Exposed Family Secrets by Accident December 13, 2024 Stories My Stepmom Stole $5,000 from My College Fund to Install Veneers for Herself — Karma Hit Her Hard January 24, 2025 Stories My Husband Left Our Kids Home Alone & Left for Our Friends’ Wedding Without Me but He Didn’t Know a Small Detail January 20, 2025 Stories Greedy Dad Wants His Daughter to Inherit His Wife’s Family Necklace Intended for His Stepdaughter December 17, 2024 Stories 4 Epic Stories About Entitled Soon-to-Be Spouses Who Got What They Deserved January 15, 2025 My New Wife Demanded I Use My Late Wife’s Money Left for Our Kids on Her Daughters — My Lesson Was Strict December 11, 2024 Just a Month After Mom’s Death, Dad Brought a Young Mistress Into Our Home for Christmas – I Was Shocked When I Saw Her December 19, 2024 Stories My Sister Secretly Put Our Parents in a Nursing Home & Tried to Sell Their House Behind My Back but I Turned the Tables on Them February 20, 2025 Stories After My Father’s Death, My Stepmom Kicked Me Out — I Never Expected She’d Beg Me to Return a Week Later January 14, 2025 Stories I Cut My Niece Off from the College Fund After I Overheard Her Conversation with My Ex-wife February 09, 2025 logo TheCelebritist creates engaging, meaningful content for women. We collect and tell stories of people from all around the world. We believe that every person’s story is important as it provides our community with an opportunity to feel a sense of belonging, share their hopes and dreams. About US About us Main Guidelines Contact us Advertise with us Information Privacy Policy Notice at collection Cookie Policy Terms of use © 2025 Amopictures Limited My Late Mom Left Me a Trust Fund, but My Dad Took Money from It for His Stepdaughter
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9-Year-Old Boy Dies on His Way to School – What Happened?

9-Year-Old Boy Dies on His Way to School – What Happened?

A 9-year-old child lost his life after being pulled into floodwaters on his way to catch his school bus, raising safety concerns across his Kentucky community.

On Friday morning, April 4, 2025, Gabriel Andrews and his older sister were walking to their regular pickup spot in the Hickory Hills area of Frankfort when he slipped and was swept away by fast-moving water.

The incident was reported at 6:35 a.m., and a large-scale emergency response was launched. Search crews located Gabriel’s body around 8:47 a.m., approximately half a mile from where he was last seen. The Franklin County Coroner’s Office confirmed his death at 9:16 a.m.

Gabriel had just turned nine on April 1, just three days before the tragedy. He lived with his mother, Racheal Tibbs Andrews, who is widowed. Residents of the area explained that children in Gabriel’s apartment complex must cross a drainage channel to reach their bus stop. On that particular morning, the area was flooded.

The news of his death brought shock and sorrow to the school and local community. Gabriel’s teacher, Kasey Swails, posted, “The sweetest Bindi Boy 💚 we love you always Gabe.” Another message from teacher Hannah Clark read, “Long live this sweet boy 🩵 prayers for his family!”.

In a separate message, Kasey shared what Gabriel meant to her class. “My favorite part of being a teacher is who I share my classroom with. Something I pride myself on is the community I build within my four walls. By May, we are more than just a class, we are a classroom family,” she wrote.

She continued, “Today, an important part of that classroom family was taken from us. The sweetest, kindest boy who was impossible not to love. Who loved basketball and anything to do with a police car, who tried his best at any task given to him. Who was a friend to all.[..] Today has been the most heartbreaking day in my teaching career.”.

Franklin County Schools confirmed that Gabriel was one of their students. “We are deeply saddened at this horrific tragedy that claimed the life of one of our students,” the district said in a statement. “We are eternally grateful for our community first responders[…] who selflessly responded to assist in this situation.”.

Frankfort Assistant Chief of Police Scott Tracy held a briefing later that day, joined by officials including Frankfort Mayor Layne Wilkerson and Franklin County Judge Michael Mueller. The Assistant Chief of Police stated, “Our hearts are with our entire community during this time.”.

Mayor Wilkerson added, “A tragedy such as this is felt by our entire community and we all grieve together.” Judge Mueller also offered condolences and thanked emergency personnel. “We offer our thoughts and prayers as they go through this time,” he said.

The incident occurred as rounds of heavy rain moved through the region. Several parts of the Midwest and South were under warnings for torrential rains and flash floods. Satellite imagery showed storm activity across Kentucky, Arkansas, and Tennessee.

In the days leading up to April 4, tornadoes in the region had already destroyed neighborhoods and claimed lives. Kentucky Governor Andy Beshear warned residents about the dangers of rising water.

Following the incident, the district’s decision to continue classes despite the weather came under scrutiny. Caitlin Green, the mother of one of Gabriel’s classmates, questioned the move. “The rain was coming down hard. They had already called off certain bus routes in the area due to flooded roadways,” she told a CNN affiliate.

On the morning of April 4, Franklin County Schools announced the cancellation of two bus routes — Bus 59 and Bus 11 — serving areas including Peaksmill, Switzer, Hamilton Camp Pleasant, Snavely Road, and Lucas Lane.

The district noted that any students affected by the transportation changes would have excused absences. However, schools remained open for the day. Later that afternoon, the district responded to rumors circulating on social media, clarifying through School Safety Coordinator Captain Abrams.

“We are hearing rumors that some social media posts are falsely reporting that some FCS Schools are in lockdown. This is False. All schools are operating normally and there are no lockdowns in the district,” the post read.

The community continues to mourn the loss of Gabriel Andrews — a young boy remembered by those who knew him as kind, joyful, and full of promise.

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A man and a young lady | Source: Shutterstock A man and a young lady | Source: Shutterstock My Late Mom Left Me a Trust Fund, but My Dad Took Money from It for His Stepdaughter — I Finally Retaliated Rita Kumar By Rita Kumar Mar 07, 2025 08:37 A.M. Shareshare-button Share this pen FacebookFacebook XX LinkedInLinkedIn EmailEmail https://thecelebritist.com/my-late-mom-left-me-a-trust-fund-but-my-2/ Copy Link My mom was my everything, and when cancer took her, she left me memories and a lifeline — a trust fund meant for my future. When my dad greedily started using it for his stepdaughter, it felt like he was erasing Mom’s memory piece by piece. I couldn’t let him take what was left of her or me. Advertisement There’s this thing about losing someone you love — you carry the weight of it forever, even if it doesn’t show. I lost my mom to breast cancer when I was ten. One day, she was there, brushing my hair and humming to some old rock song, and the next, she was gone. Just like that. A grieving young woman mourning before a loved one’s grave | Source: Freepik A grieving young woman mourning before a loved one’s grave | Source: Freepik I remember our last conversation like it was yesterday. She was sitting on her hospital bed, her fingers weakly running through my hair. “Promise me something, baby girl,” she whispered. “Anything, Mom,” I said, trying to hold back my tears. “Promise me you’ll never let anyone dim your light. You’re so special, Iris. So incredibly special.” Advertisement A sad woman sitting on a hospital bed | Source: Pexels A sad woman sitting on a hospital bed | Source: Pexels She didn’t leave me with much — just a few photos, the smell of her favorite vanilla perfume lingering on her scarves, and a trust fund she set up for me before she passed. “This is for Iris,” she’d told my dad and my grandparents. “For her education and her future. Promise me she’ll always have it.” They promised. My dad promised too. But promises don’t mean much when someone’s not around to hold you to them. A trust agreement on a table | Source: Midjourney A trust agreement on a table | Source: Midjourney Advertisement My dad remarried two years later. His new wife, Marianne, came with her own baggage: a twelve-year-old daughter named Emily. I didn’t mind at first. Mom was gone, and I thought maybe this could be a new chapter. But I quickly learned how things would work in our house: Emily first, Marianne second, Dad somewhere in the mix, and me? Not even in the picture! An annoyed girl | Source: Pexels An annoyed girl | Source: Pexels It started small. Once, our fridge and shower broke at the same time. Dad took money from the trust fund without my permission to fix them. “I’ll pay it back,” he said like it was no big deal. A week later, he bought Emily a MacBook for her birthday. On mine? A $100 gift card. Advertisement It wasn’t the money — it was the message. Over the years, he kept dipping into the fund for car repairs, home renovations, and things that had nothing to do with me. “It’s just temporary,” he’d always say. But the withdrawals kept piling up, and the “temporary” excuses wore thin. A frustrated teenage girl | Source: Pexels A frustrated teenage girl | Source: Pexels By the time I got to college, I didn’t need the money for tuition because of my scholarship. That didn’t stop him from finding new ways to use it, though. Every time I brought it up, he brushed me off. “Don’t stress, Iris. It’s safe.” Safe. Right. “You understand, don’t you, Iris?” That’s what he’d always say when something I needed got pushed aside for Emily. New clothes for her pageant? Sure. My vacation? Maybe next year. It stung, but I swallowed it down. Advertisement But the swallowing got harder. I’ll never forget the day I realized how much of Mom’s trust fund was gone. It was late one night during my final year of college. I’d overheard Emily talking to her friends about how “Daddy” was covering the cost of her new car. My stomach twisted as I thought about the fund. A delighted woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney A delighted woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney “Can you believe it?” Emily squealed through the thin walls. “A brand new BMW! Daddy said I deserve it for making it to nationals!” My hands trembled as I sat at my desk, memories of Mom’s words echoing in my head: “This is for Iris. For her future.” It had been years since I’d seen the account. My dad had told me not to “stress over it.” But now, something felt off, and I decided to check it. Advertisement I logged into the account, and my heart sank. The numbers didn’t make sense. Thousands were missing. Pageant fees. A water heater. Emily’s car. Every withdrawal was like a punch in the gut. A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels By the time I closed my laptop, my hands were shaking. This wasn’t just money. It was Mom’s legacy. She’d trusted Dad to protect it, and he’d drained it like it was his personal wallet. I called my grandma the next morning. “Sweetheart,” she said after I told her everything. “This has gone on long enough. You have to stand up to him.” “I can’t breathe, Grandma,” I sobbed into the phone. “It feels like he’s erasing Mom piece by piece. Like he’s erasing ME.” Advertisement “Oh, my sweet girl,” she whispered. “Your mother would be furious right now. She fought so hard to make sure you’d be taken care of.” “I know,” I cried, my throat tight. “I trusted when he said he’d put the money back. But he’s only been draining Mom’s hard-earned money.” A worried older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney A worried older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney “Your mother was a fighter,” Grandma added. “And so are you. It’s time to show them that.” “I will when the right time comes,” I said, my heart heavy as I hung up. It all came to a head a week later. Graduation was around the corner, and I was finally ready to celebrate after four years of sleepless nights and busted printer deadlines. I called Dad and told him I was graduating on December 20th. I could hear the pause on the other end of the line, long enough for my stomach to drop. Advertisement A woman calling her father | Source: Midjourney A woman calling her father | Source: Midjourney “Oh, December 20th?” he said finally. “That’s when Emily’s pageant is. We’ve already made plans.” “You’re missing my graduation for a pageant?” “Ah, c’mon, Iris. Graduation’s not a big deal. You’ll have more of those. But this pageant? It’s her chance to shine.” I didn’t even realize I was gripping my phone so hard until my fingers started to hurt. “You’re kidding, right?” A woman engrossed in a phonecall | Source: Pexels A woman engrossed in a phonecall | Source: Pexels Advertisement I heard Marianne chime in, her tone dripping with condescension from the background. “Don’t be selfish, Iris. Graduations happen all the time. Emily’s pageant is once-in-a-lifetime.” “Selfish?” I spat. “Dad, this isn’t about being selfish. This is about you choosing Emily over me. Again.” “That’s not fair —” he protested. “Not fair? You want to talk about fair? When was the last time you chose me? When was the last time you even saw me?” A man on a phonecall | Source: Midjourney A man on a phonecall | Source: Midjourney “Of course I see you, Iris.” “No, you DON’T!” The words burst out of me like a dam breaking. “You see Emily. You see her pageants and her dance recitals and her EVERYTHING. But me? I’m just the ghost in the corner. Mom’s leftover that you don’t know what to do with.” Advertisement “Iris, that’s enough!” “No, it’s not enough! It’s never been enough!” I cried, years of hurt pouring out. “Do you know what Mom’s last words to me were? She made me promise not to let anyone dim my light. But you’ve been doing exactly that for years, Dad. Years!” A furious woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels A furious woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels He sighed like I was being unreasonable. “We’ll celebrate when we’re back. I promise.” The word “promise” hit me like a slap. “Your promises don’t mean anything anymore,” I whispered. “They haven’t since Mom died.” I hung up without saying goodbye. My grandparents, at least, showed up for my graduation. Seeing their proud faces in the crowd made the day feel a little less lonely. They hugged me so tightly afterward, reminding me that someone still cared. I was happy, but I had one last thing to do. Advertisement A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney The next day, I walked into Dad’s office with the account statements in hand. My stomach was doing backflips, but I couldn’t let that stop me. “We need to talk,” I said, shutting the door behind me and dropping the papers on his desk. Dad looked up from his computer, frowning. “What’s this?” “The trust fund statement. Mom’s trust fund. The one you’ve been draining for years.” His face paled, but he tried to play it off. “Iris, come on. Everything I’ve spent was for the family. You’ve never needed it. You had a scholarship.” “That money wasn’t for the family,” I cut in. “It was for ME. For MY future. And you spent it on Emily. Don’t even try to deny it. The statements don’t lie.” Advertisement A stack of documents on a table | Source: Midjourney A stack of documents on a table | Source: Midjourney “You don’t understand what it’s like,” he stood up, his voice rising. “Being a father, trying to blend two families —” “And you don’t understand what it’s like watching your father erase every trace of your mother!” I shot back. “That money was the last thing she could give me, and you treated it like your personal ATM!” He leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. “I did what I had to do.” “No,” I said, standing my ground. “You did what was convenient for you. And now you’re going to pay it back. Every penny.” His laugh was bitter. “And if I don’t?” Advertisement “Then I’ll sue you.” A woman crossing her arms and pointing her finger at someone | Source: Pexels A woman crossing her arms and pointing her finger at someone | Source: Pexels The room went silent. For the first time in my life, I saw real fear in his eyes. “You wouldn’t,” he said finally. “Mom always said I had her backbone,” I replied. “Maybe it’s time you remembered that.” The fallout was as messy as I expected. My stepmom and stepsister called me, yelling through the phone. “How could you do this, Iris?” Marianne’s voice was shrill like I had personally burned their house down. “Do what?” I said, gripping my phone tighter. “Stand up for myself? Demand the respect I’ve never gotten from you people?” Advertisement An annoyed senior woman | Source: Midjourney An annoyed senior woman | Source: Midjourney “Don’t make this about you,” she snapped. “You’re punishing us because we couldn’t be in two places at once. You know how much Emily’s pageant meant to her!” “And my graduation didn’t mean anything to you,” I fired back. “I’ve had enough, Marianne. I’m done.” “How dare you? After everything we’ve done for you?” “Done for me?” I laughed hollowly. “What exactly have you done except try to replace everything about Mom?” A young woman laughing | Source: Midjourney A young woman laughing | Source: Midjourney Advertisement “I tried to be a mother to you!” “No,” I snapped. “You tried to erase my mother. There’s a difference.” She called me a “selfish” brat. But I didn’t back down. Under the U.S. law, she and Dad had no leg to stand on. My grandparents helped me draft the legal documents, and by the time I handed them over, Dad knew he was out of options. Read also Stories My Late Mom Left Me a Trust Fund, but My Dad Took Money from It for His Stepdaughter — I Finally Retaliated January 28, 2025 Stories 4 Times Entitled People Demanded or Took What Wasn’t Theirs and Got What They Deserved January 09, 2025 Evil Stepmothers Who Met Their Match: Stories of Karma Catching Up in the Most Unexpected Ways November 29, 2024 A month later, the money was back in my account. They’d taken out loans to do it, but that wasn’t my problem. I moved out the next week and settled into my grandparents’ house temporarily. It felt good to be somewhere warm and safe for once. A woman with a suitcase and bag | Source: Pexels A woman with a suitcase and bag | Source: Pexels Advertisement “You’ve always been stronger than you think, Iris,” Grandma said one night as we sat on the porch. She wrapped her cardigan around my shoulders, and it smelled like Mom’s vanilla perfume. “I didn’t feel strong,” I admitted, staring at the stars. “I just felt angry.” “Sometimes, anger is what we need to get moving,” she said with a smile. “Your mother… she knew this might happen, you know. That’s why she made us promise to watch over you.” “She did?” “Oh yes. She said, ‘My Iris might bend, but she’ll never break.’ She knew exactly who you were, sweetheart.” I handed her a check the next day, a portion of the repaid money. She tried to refuse it, but I insisted. “You and Grandpa have done more for me than anyone else ever has. Please. Let me do this.” A woman holding a check | Source: Midjourney A woman holding a check | Source: Midjourney Advertisement She hugged me so tightly that I thought I might break. “We’re so proud of you. And your mom… oh, she would be over the moon.” With the rest of the money, I enrolled in grad school and got my own apartment. It wasn’t fancy, but it was mine. One night, as I unpacked some boxes, I came across an old photo of Mom and me. She was holding me in her lap, her smile soft and warm. “I did it, Mom,” I whispered, running my fingers over the photo. “I kept my promise. I didn’t let them dim my light.” A woman holding an old photograph | Source: Midjourney A woman holding an old photograph | Source: Midjourney My phone buzzed with a message from Dad. But I didn’t open it. Advertisement Instead, I texted Grandma: “I think I’m finally free.” Her reply was immediate: “You are, sweetheart. You are. Your mother is probably dancing in heaven right now.” I set the phone aside and smiled, my eyes misty. For the first time in years, I felt like I was finally living for me. Living how Mom had always wanted me to… bright and unafraid. An emotional young woman | Source: Midjourney An emotional young woman | Source: Midjourney Here’s another story: Just a month after my mother’s death, my father easily moved on and brought his mistress home for Christmas. My heart shattered when he introduced her as my “NEW MOM.” However, it wasn’t the only thing that left me crushed. 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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We collect and tell stories of people from all around the world. We believe that every person’s story is important as it provides our community with an opportunity to feel a sense of belonging, share their hopes and dreams. About US About us Main Guidelines Contact us Advertise with us Information Privacy Policy Notice at collection Cookie Policy Terms of use © 2025 Amopictures Limited My Late Mom Left Me a Trust Fund, but My Dad Took Money from It for His Stepdaughter