My Grandma Raised Me Alone After I Became an Orphan – Three Days After Her Death, I Learned She Lied to Me My Entire Life

No radio. No humming.

No clatter in the kitchen.

“Grandma?” I called.

Nothing.

Her bedroom door was half open.

She was lying on top of the covers, work clothes still on, shoes still tied.

Her hand was cool when I touched it.

“Grandma?” I whispered.

She didn’t move.

People said “heart attack,” and “quick,” and “she didn’t feel a thing.”

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