I Promised Each of My Five Grandkids a $2 Million Inheritance – in the End, No One Got It

“I think I might go back to school,” she told me one afternoon.

“Get my degree. The kids are getting older, and maybe I could make something more of myself.”

“You’ve already made something beautiful,” I said, squeezing her hand. “Look at those children.

Look at how hard you work. That’s something.”

The boys were different.

They tried at first, I’ll give them that. Michael showed up on time during the first few weeks, sometimes with a small gift.

Sam brought groceries once or twice, and Peter helped me fix a leaky faucet.

But then the visits started taking a turn for the worse.

First, they started getting shorter.

Then, the complaining started.

“How much longer do you want to sit here, Gran?” Michael asked one Tuesday, checking his phone for the third time in ten minutes. “I’ve got a thing later.”

“Nothing new ever happens here,” Sam joked during one of his visits.

Harry started spending most of the visit scrolling through something on his phone, barely looking at me.

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