They thought she couldn’t hear them. That was their first mistake.
My grandmother’s sudden “hearing loss” became the perfect cover as our family revealed their true colors. My uncle joked about her “living too long.” My aunt called her names behind her back. All while Grandma sat quietly, absorbing every word with a knowing smile.
I was the only one who noticed her occasional “slip-ups” – reacting to conversations she supposedly couldn’t hear. When I confronted her, she showed me the recordings. For months, she’d been documenting every cruel comment, every discussion about dividing her wealth. “They’ll get what they deserve,” she told me with a wink.
The reading of the will was everything she promised. As seven flash drives played back their own greedy words, my relatives turned pale. The lawyer’s announcement – that everything went to me – was just the final twist. My grandmother’s quiet revenge was perfect: she let them expose themselves.
