My Relatives Thought They Had Robbed Our Rich Blind Grandfather, but He Turned Out to Be Much Smarter

When Ellie’s blind, dying grandfather gathers the greedy family to announce he’s donating his fortune to charity, tension explodes. The open safe tempts everyone. As relatives enter the room one by one, Ellie suspects foul play. But when it’s her turn, Grandpa reveals a shocking truth.

At 19, I was the black sheep of a family that treated me like I was invisible. After Mom died, Dad married Sharon, who came complete with two daughters and had enough emotional baggage to sink a cruise ship.

The way they looked at me — like I was something they’d scraped off their shoes — made our spacious home feel smaller than a closet.

Their matching designer outfits and perfectly styled hair only emphasized how much I didn’t belong, with my thrift store clothes and messy ponytail.

“Ellie, dear,” Sharon would say, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, “wouldn’t you be more comfortable eating in the kitchen?”

That was her way of saying I embarrassed her in front of her country club friends. Dad would just stare at his plate, suddenly fascinated by his roasted asparagus.

My cousins weren’t any better. All six of them treated family gatherings like networking events, schmoozing with anyone who might boost their social status.

I usually ended up in the kitchen, helping the staff clean up. At least they talked to me like I was human. Maria, our cook, always saved me a piece of her famous chocolate cake.

“Those people out there?” she’d say, sliding me an extra-large slice. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”

But Grandpa? He was different. He’d worked his way up from nothing to build the family fortune, but being wealthy never changed him. Grandpa was salt of the earth, through and through.

He was the only one in the family who saw me for who I really was when everyone else looked right through me.

Grandpa taught me everything worth knowing, from how to plant the perfect rose garden to how to laugh when life kicks you in the teeth.

While the rest of the family was busy climbing their social ladders, Grandpa and I would sit on his wraparound porch, drinking lemonade and talking about everything and nothing.

“Remember, Ellie,” he’d say when I was having a rough day, “the best revenge is living well. And maybe a little practical joke now and then.”

I didn’t fully understand what he meant until that summer, when everything changed.

Grandpa got sick, and his health deteriorated fast. His eyesight failed, and suddenly he was bedridden. The family descended like locusts, their concern as fake as Sharon’s designer handbags.

I visited him every day, watching as he grew weaker, my heart breaking a little more each time. While the others whispered about his massive wall safe and what might be inside it, I just held his hand and read him his favorite books.

We worked our way through “The Count of Monte Cristo” at his request, which should have been my first clue about what was coming.

“Read that part again,” he’d say, “where Edmund discovers the treasure.”

Now I wonder if he was trying not to laugh.

Then came the day that changed everything.

“Family meeting,” Grandpa announced via a voice message, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everyone come to my house. Now.”

The whole family rushed to Grandpa’s house, nearly trampling each other in their hurry to reach his bedside. I hung back, leaning against the wall near the door.

Then I noticed the safe in Grandpa’s bedroom was ajar. Grandpa never left the safe open. I glanced around the room and my heart sank when I realized I wasn’t the only person who’d noticed.

All my relatives were eyeing the dark crack at the door with hungry eyes. Sharon’s daughters, Amber and Crystal, kept nudging each other and pointing at it when they thought no one was looking.

“I’m sad I can’t see any of you anymore,” Grandpa said. “I’d give anything to see your faces again, but it’s too late for that now. The doctor says I don’t have much time left. That’s why I called you all here today. I’ve been putting my affairs in order and I want you all to know that I’ve decided to donate all my money to charity.”

The silence that followed was deafening. I could practically hear their dreams of inheriting millions shattering like cheap glass. My cousin Bradley actually gasped out loud, then he turned and stared at the safe.

Everyone else followed his gaze. It was like they were all thinking the same thing: if they took something, he’d never know.

“Now that’s out of the way, I’d like a chance to speak with each of you privately,” Grandpa continued, adjusting his dark glasses. “Who’s first?”

What happened next was like watching piranhas in a feeding frenzy. Everyone started talking at once, pushing and shoving, trying to be first in line.

“Enough!” My uncle declared loudly. “I’m the eldest son, and I will go first.”

The look in his eyes silenced everyone.

“Grandpa, wait!” I called out, trying to warn him, but Amber and Crystal shoved me out into the hall.

I watched from the hallway as they went in one by one. Each came out looking smug, like cats who’d gotten into the cream.

My stomach churned. I knew exactly what was happening. The open safe was too tempting, and a blind old man would never know if they helped themselves, right?

I wasn’t allowed in to see Grandpa until everyone else had had their chance to “say goodbye.” I walked in and sat beside Grandpa’s bed, ignoring the safe completely. It was too late to prevent my relatives from plundering it now.

“Grandpa,” I whispered, taking his hand. “I’m not ready for you to go.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks as memories flooded back. “Remember when you taught me to fish? I was so scared of hurting the worms, but you showed me how to bait the hook gently. Or all those summer nights on the porch, watching the stars come out? You taught me every constellation.”

“And you remembered them all,” he said softly. “Just like you remembered to water my roses every day while I’ve been stuck in this bed.”

He squeezed my hand. “You’ve always had a good heart, Ellie. And you’ve always been the one person I could trust.”

Then he did something that made my heart stop. He reached up and took off those dark glasses, revealing eyes that were sharp and clear — and looking right at me.

“You’re probably wondering how I saw all this coming,” he said, grinning like a kid with a secret.

“You… you can see?” I stammered, nearly falling out of my chair.

“Yes, and I’ve seen everything,” Grandpa replied. “Every greedy glance, every hand sneaking into that safe. They didn’t think an old blind man could catch them, but I did.” Grandpa gestured to the safe. “Let’s see how much is left, Ellie.”

I walked to the safe, my legs wobbly, and opened the door wide. Inside was nothing but empty air.

Grandpa laughed.

“I had 10 million dollars in fake bills in there,” Grandpa announced proudly. “And they took every last one. The real money is in a bank vault downtown. And it’s all yours, Ellie.”

I couldn’t speak. My throat felt like I’d swallowed sand.

“You’re the only one I trust to use it wisely,” he continued. “And if you want to leave this toxic mess of a family behind, don’t look back. Heaven knows I’ve wanted to shake their dust off my shoes for years.”

A few days later, Grandpa’s health suddenly started improving with a new treatment. The doctors were shocked, but I wasn’t. You can’t keep a good trickster down.

I bought two plane tickets to Bali the next day. First class, because Grandpa insisted we start our new life in style.

The family exploded when they realized what had happened. Sharon threatened to sue. Dad finally found his voice, but only to demand his “fair share.” My cousins showed their true colors with a rainbow of creative curse words.

We left anyway, with nothing but our suitcases and the satisfaction of knowing justice had been served.

Now, I’m writing this from a beach chair in Bali, watching Grandpa teach local kids how to build the perfect sandcastle.

He’s got more energy than all of them combined, and his laugh carries across the sand like music. His recovery seems even more miraculous in the tropical sun.

“Pass me another coconut drink, would you, Ellie?” he calls out. “Planning the perfect revenge makes a man thirsty!”

I bring him his drink and sit beside him, watching the sunset paint the sky in colors I never saw back home.

“Was it worth it?” I ask. “All that planning, pretending to be blind?”

He takes a sip and grins. “Look around, kiddo. You’re smiling. You’re free. And those vultures back home are probably still arguing about fake money. I’d say that’s worth everything.”

I lean back and close my eyes, feeling the warm breeze on my face. For the first time in my life, I know exactly what he means about living well being the best revenge.

And you know what? He was right about the practical jokes too.

Here’s another story: At Grandpa’s funeral, 18-year-old Dahlia feels isolated as her family fumes over the pitiful $1 inheritance. But when a stranger slips her a secret note, Dahlia is pulled into a mystery only she can solve.

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.