I Pretended to Be Homeless at the Department Store I Owned to Find My Heir – Then Someone Suddenly Grabbed Me from Behind

At 92, I was a widowed department store owner with more money than family and no idea who deserved any of it. So I walked into my own store disguised as a homeless woman to see how people treated me—and right when the disgust and stares were getting unbearable, someone suddenly tackled me from behind.

I never thought I’d live to be 92.

By then, everyone I loved was gone.

My husband. My children.

My sisters and brothers.

Cancer took some. Accidents took others. Time finished the job.

What I had left was money.

A lot of it.

And the department store I’d built from nothing when I was 42.

Four floors. A café. Perfume counters.

Fancy brands I couldn’t even pronounce.

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