Granddad Forbids Anyone from Touching His Old Mattress, Girl Finds Stash There after His Death – Story of the Day

Inside her late grandfather’s mattress, Brooke uncovers a stash that shatters everything she thought she knew about her parents’ death. But this hidden secret doesn’t just affect her; it threatens to destroy the entire town.

Brooke stood in the doorway of her grandfather’s bedroom, her nose prickling as memories flooded her mind. Her breath came in unevenly as she remembered all the times she had visited him, almost hearing Granddad Charles’s hearty laugh echoing through the halls.

“I can’t believe he’s truly gone,” she whispered, running her hand along the old oak dresser.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The room smelled of old books and the faint scent of Granddad’s favorite pipe tobacco and his signature Aqua Velva aftershave.

After a moment, Brooke’s eyes fell on a framed photo of her parents on the nightstand. She was truly alone in this world now, as they had died years ago in a freak car accident.

As she began the daunting task of sorting through Granddad’s belongings, her mind wandered to how Granddad had never allowed anyone to touch his bed.

“Don’t you ever touch that mattress, young lady,” Granddad would say whenever Brooke jumped and bounced on the surface as a child. “It’s got more secrets than you can imagine.”

Now, standing before that very bed, Brooke felt an irresistible pull. She lifted one corner of the mattress, figuring that any secret would be hidden beneath.

She didn’t actually expect to find anything, much less something that would change everything. Beneath the mattress lay a small leather-bound book, yellowed newspaper clippings, and a stack of photographs.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Oh, Granddad,” Brooke breathed, “what were you hiding?”

She took the items and sifted through the papers. As she read, her eyebrows raised in surprise. For some reason, Granddad had meticulously documented the investigation into her parents’ “accident.”

He had been obsessed with it, claiming the police officers were corrupt, despite having served as a cop for decades himself. He had insisted that something was wrong.

Brooke hadn’t believed him then, but now, with the evidence before her, she felt compelled to dig deeper. Investigating this matter suddenly became her entire focus.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Mr. Johnson was seen leaving the Starlight Lounge, visibly intoxicated,” she read aloud. “Officer Parker waved him through a checkpoint.”

Brooke’s hands trembled as she pieced together the truth that her granddad had uncovered: the police had covered up the drunk driving of a wealthy person in town who run into her parents.

Hot, angry tears streamed down her face, but she refused to break down from the unfairness and frustration. She knew she had to do something about this information.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll finish what you started, Granddad,” Brooke vowed. “They won’t get away with this.”

***

The next day, Brooke marched into the offices of the local newspaper, her granddad’s evidence tucked safely in her bag.

The bustling newsroom barely noticed her arrival, but she didn’t care.

Brooke walked straight to an editor’s office and blurted out, “I’ve got a story you need to hear!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

The gruff man sitting behind the desk looked up from his reading and leaned back in his chair, eyeing Brooke warily. “Hello, young lady. I’m Frank, and I have to tell you, we get a lot of people in here claiming to have the next big scoop. What makes yours special?”

Brooke took a deep breath, sat in the chair opposite the editor, and began to lay out the facts. As she spoke, Frank’s expression changed from doubt to intrigue.

After a few minutes, he leaned forward, resting his head on his linked hands, clearly captivated by the story unfolding before him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

“This is explosive stuff, Ms. Taylor,” he said when she finished. “Are you sure you want to go public with this? There could be serious consequences.”

Brooke’s eyes flashed with determination. “Sir, I’ve spent years wondering why the universe took my parents. Every birthday, every holiday, every milestone in my life since they died has been overshadowed by this unanswered question. Now that I know it wasn’t just fate, but foul play, I can’t sit on it. This isn’t just about my family anymore. It’s about every person in this town who’s been told to accept injustice because that’s just how things are.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Frank studied her for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright, Ms. Taylor. We’ll run the story. But I need you to understand something. This isn’t going to be easy. People are going to come after you, try to discredit you, and maybe even threaten you. Are you prepared for that?”

“My grandfather was a cop for thirty years,” Brooke responded. “He taught me that doing the right thing isn’t always easy, but it’s always necessary. I’m ready for whatever comes.”

Frank’s face softened slightly. “Your grandfather sounds like he was a good man. Alright, let’s get to work. We’ve got a lot to do if we’re going to break this story wide open.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

***

The story hit the front page the following week, and Brooke’s phone buzzed constantly with messages of support and outrage.

She also took to social media, sharing the link to the story and rallying people to demand justice.

“My parents deserved better,” she wrote in a viral post. “We all deserve better from those sworn to protect us.”

As public pressure mounted, the police department grudgingly reopened the case.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Brooke watched with grim satisfaction as Officer Parker, the officer in charge of the original investigation, squirmed under questioning during a special press conference.

“We had no choice,” he finally admitted. “Mr. Johnson’s family has connections. We were told to make it go away.”

The Johnson family was indeed wealthy and influential, owning many businesses in the area and having funded the campaigns of several local government officials.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

The revelation sent shockwaves through the community, leading to protests outside the police station as citizens demanded accountability and transparency.

Protesters also gathered at Mr. Johnson’s and his family’s known properties in town. The Johnson family quickly lawyered up and hired PR representatives to try to discredit Brooke.

However, in this political climate, people were more inclined to believe the young woman who had lost everything. The community’s support for Brooke only grew stronger, and the pressure on the Johnson family and local officials intensified.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

While walking down the street one day, Brooke was suddenly surrounded by a swarm of reporters.

“Ms. Taylor, some people are saying you’re doing this for attention or financial gain. How do you respond to that?” one journalist asked.

Brooke’s eyes flashed with emotion, but she took a deep breath before responding. “I lost my parents when I was eight years old. Do you know what that’s like? I’m not doing this for fame or money. I’m doing it because for years, I’ve had a hole in my heart where my parents should be, and my granddad believed something was wrong. How could I possibly stay silent?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Her voice broke slightly, but she continued

“This isn’t just about me. It’s about every family who’s lost someone because people in power decided their lives were less important than protecting the wealthy and influential. It’s about making sure no other child has to grow up feeling like their parents’ lives didn’t matter. So no, I don’t care about attention or money. I care about justice, pure and simple.”

As the investigation progressed, more details emerged. It turned out that Mr. Johnson had a history of drunk driving incidents that had been swept under the rug, further fueling the community’s outrage and deepening the scandal.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Other families came forward with similar stories of injustice, further exposing the depth of corruption in the town.

Months later, a trial was set, becoming a media circus. Each day, the courthouse steps were crowded with reporters and protesters.

Inside a cold courtroom, Brooke sat stoically as Mr. Johnson finally faced justice.

The prosecution presented a damning case, bolstered by the evidence her granddad had gathered. Brooke testified about the emotional and financial strains her small family suffered after her parents’ death, vividly describing the pain and loss they endured.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But Brooke also added her own emotions, and the judge allowed her to speak. “My grandfather never stopped searching for the truth,” she said. “He knew something wasn’t right, and he refused to let it go. I’m here to finish what he started.”

As the trial neared its end, the Johnson family contacted the D.A.’s office, hoping for a settlement. The prosecutors consulted Brooke, but she refused any monetary offer.

“Money was always how the Johnsons solved things,” she thought. “Not anymore!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

The case continued, and on the last day, Mr. Johnson stood and looked at Brooke. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I know it doesn’t change anything, but I truly am sorry.”

Brooke simply nodded.

The case concluded, and the jury took a couple of days to deliberate. The courtroom was hushed as they filed in.

“How do you find the defendant?” the judge asked.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Guilty, Your Honor,” the jury foreman replied.

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Brooke closed her eyes and felt a wave of relief wash over her. We did it, Granddad!

The aftermath of the trial brought sweeping changes to the town. Several corrupt officers were fired, and new policies were implemented to ensure greater accountability.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The case and her story were the talk of the town for a long time, but Brooke didn’t care about the attention. Justice had been served, and Mr. Johnson would spend several years in jail.

Now, it was time to look to the future, and perhaps… help others find justice too.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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.

My Dad’s Entitled Girlfriend Mocks My Stuttering until She Finds Out Who I Am – It Was Time to Dot the I’s

I thought it was going to be a normal day at work until a stranger mocked me for something I had no control over. When I discovered who the stranger was, I didn’t hold back in calling her out. The best thing about the confrontation was that my father had my back.

I am sure I am not the only person who’s heard that if your partner mistreats service workers, that should be a red flag for your relationship. Their mistreatment is a sign that they look down on people who they feel are beneath them.

A waitress taking an order from customers | Source: Pixabay

A waitress taking an order from customers | Source: Pixabay

I learned this lesson during a recent and unexpected incident. See, I had been working at this restaurant for a year while busy with my Anthropology studies.

I would whip out my books and study between orders and when it was a slow day in the restaurant. Today was a busy day, and I hadn’t yet had a chance to go through my schoolwork, and worried I’d fall behind.

A waitress taking an order from customers | Source: Pixabay

A waitress taking an order from customers | Source: Pixabay

Juggling a part-time job and school isn’t easy. On that typical late evening, a middle-aged woman in a red dress walked into the establishment. For some reason, I distinctly felt a twinge of nerves.

She exuded an air of entitlement, and her sharp gaze scanned the room critically. Even so, I approached her with my usual courtesy, ready to take her order. “Good evening! I’m Alice. May I take your order, please?” I greeted her warmly with a broad and inviting smile.

A woman smiling while holding a book | Source: Pexels

A woman smiling while holding a book | Source: Pexels

I hoped my positive demeanor would calm her down because standing close to her, I could FEEL her bristling with annoyance. Her eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down, clearly unimpressed.

I instantly cringed physically as if she’d hit me or touched me unexpectedly. “And what is this new look you’re showing off, young lady? Where is your apron?” she snapped.

I felt a familiar tightening in my throat, my stutter threatening to emerge. “M-ma’am, I, I’m…”

Alice taking an order from Donna | Source: Midjourney

Alice taking an order from Donna | Source: Midjourney

She rolled her eyes dramatically, cutting me off. “I can’t HEAR you! Do you speak normal English? God, I’ll fire you straight away when I own this little shack.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was on the verge of tears as I tried to make sense of her statement. I wondered what she meant by owning the restaurant. I was about to open my mouth to defend myself and the establishment she’d reduced to a “shack,” when something happened.

An emotional woman | Source: Pexels

An emotional woman | Source: Pexels

Just then, my dad’s voice rang out from behind her. “Oh, you already met each other, perfect!”

Met each other? What was he talking about… What happened next became an absolutely gorgeous and memorable moment because the stranger started stuttering!

“H-h-honey, what do you mean?!” she asked, her previous bravado vanishing.

My dad walked over, smiling warmly. “You still don’t get it? This is my daughter, Alice!” he said, pulling me close for a one-armed hug.

A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels

A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels

Her face turned a shade of crimson as she looked back at me, her demeanor shifting from arrogant to flustered in a heartbeat! At that moment, I realized the MOST interesting part of the evening was about to begin!

The thought of crying was long gone as my father’s presence bolstered me. “Please, continue with what you were saying, ma’am. What were you saying you were going to do after you fired me when you own, what did you call it again? Ah yes! This shack?” I asked, grinning widely.

A woman smiling while holding a notebook | Source: Pexels

A woman smiling while holding a notebook | Source: Pexels

She stammered, trying to salvage the situation. “Oh, darling, you didn’t get the gist of what I was saying.”

“What were you saying, Donna?” my father asked as he started putting two and two together.

“Well, darling, of course, I was just j-j-joking!”

The woman punctuated the last word with a fake smile that convinced no one!

I raised an eyebrow, mimicking her earlier tone. “Oh, what’s wrong with YOUR English? So you can s-s-stutter and others can’t?”

An upset woman with a raised eyebrow | Source: Freepik

An upset woman with a raised eyebrow | Source: Freepik

My dad stood there, speechless, trying to process the situation.

I took a deep breath and turned to him, my heart pounding. “Dad, I’m sorry, but it seems like your taste in women failed after Mom.”

Donna reached out to him, but he stepped back, his expression hardening. “Please, honey, you have to understand. It was all a misunderstanding,” she pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.

Donna defending herself while Alice looks on | Source: Midjourney

Donna defending herself while Alice looks on | Source: Midjourney

He shook his head, his disappointment evident. “I simply CAN NOT believe you’d talk like that with my daughter. Moreover, you didn’t know it was her, so that’s how you talk to service people?”

Donna’s eyes widened with desperation as she realized that things were backfiring on her.

I stood opposite my dad with a smug look and arms folded as I listened to their back and forth.

A father and his daughter standing with folded arms | Source: Freepik

A father and his daughter standing with folded arms | Source: Freepik

“No, no, I didn’t MEAN it that way. I just… I was having a bad day!” she exclaimed, sounding exasperated.

“Even a bad day wouldn’t excuse your behavior, Donna. You showed me your true colors,” my father said, his words marked with sadness.

“And those colors aren’t very pretty,” I added, siding with my dad.

A disappointed woman | Source: Freepik

A disappointed woman | Source: Freepik

“Please, give me another chance. I promise I’ll do and be better,” Donna begged softly, her voice breaking as all her arrogance went out the door. She never expected to get caught showing her true self.

A part of me felt sorry for her. It was clear from how she was reacting that she loved my dad, but how she treated me said a lot about her character. I wondered how many more people she had abused while they rendered services to her.

An unhappy woman holding a notebook | Source: Pexels

An unhappy woman holding a notebook | Source: Pexels

Whether she loved my dad or not didn’t matter if she wasn’t a good person and, as they say, “First impressions last.”

My dad looked at her with a mixture of sadness and resolve. “No, I think it’s best if we part ways. I can’t be with someone who disrespects my daughter and others like that.”

“Goodbye, and enjoy your last meal here, because I don’t think you’ll be welcome back,” I said, feeling a surge of confidence.

A woman smiling while standing next to her father | Source: Freepik

A woman smiling while standing next to her father | Source: Freepik

Donna’s face twisted in anger and humiliation as she opened her mouth to say something. But she thought against it before storming out of the restaurant. My dad turned to me, his expression softening. “I’m so sorry, Alice. I had no idea she was like that.”

“It’s okay, Dad. I’m just glad you know now,” I replied, feeling a wave of relief.

We hugged, and the other patrons in the restaurant, who had been quietly watching the scene, began to clap. I felt a surge of pride, knowing I stood up for myself and that my dad had my back. His entitled girlfriend was gone, and my dad and I could move forward without her toxic presence.

A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels

A father hugging his daughter | Source: Pexels

As the evening wound down, the restaurant became quieter. My dad and I sat at one of the tables, sharing a cup of coffee. The confrontation was still fresh in our minds, and we found solace in each other’s company.

“Dad, why did you never tell her about me?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

He sighed, stirring his coffee absentmindedly. “I wanted to, but it never seemed like the right time. I didn’t think she’d react like that.”

A sad father talking to his daughter | Source: Pexels

A sad father talking to his daughter | Source: Pexels

“Well, now you know,” I said, a hint of bitterness creeping into my voice. “It’s not the first time someone has mocked my stutter, but it hurt more coming from someone you cared about.”

He reached across the table, taking my hand in his. “I’m so proud of you, my angel. You’ve grown into such a strong and resilient young woman.”

His words warmed my heart, and I smiled at him. “Thanks, Dad. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

“I noticed how heartbroken you were to have to end your relationship. I am sorry, Dad,” I said, reaching out to hug him tightly.

“Thanks, pumpkin,” he smiled. “I did love her. We were together for almost a year, and I thought she was the one until today.”

I was sad for my father but secretly relieved that Donna didn’t become my stepmother. Something told me that my stutter would have been the least of my worries when it came to that rude woman. But luckily, fate played a good hand for me.

A sad father with his daughter | Source: Pexels

A sad father with his daughter | Source: Pexels

As the evening progressed, we talked about everything and nothing. The restaurant staff, who had seen the earlier drama, gave me nods of approval and supportive smiles. I felt a newfound sense of belonging and acceptance.

A few days later, life at the restaurant returned to normal. The regulars came and went, the kitchen buzzed with activity, and the waitstaff moved swiftly to keep up with the dinner rush. I felt a renewed sense of purpose and confidence in my work.

Happy patrons at a restaurant | Source: Pexels

Happy patrons at a restaurant | Source: Pexels

Later that night, as I was cleaning up, my dad approached me with a thoughtful expression. “I’ve been thinking about what happened with Donna,” he said.

I looked up from wiping down a table. “Yeah?”

“I realized that I’ve been too focused on finding someone new, and I haven’t been paying enough attention to you,” he admitted.

“Dad, it’s okay. I want you to be happy,” I replied, meaning every word.

A daughter comforting her father | Source: Pexels

A daughter comforting her father | Source: Pexels

He shook his head. “No, it’s not okay. I need to be there for YOU more. You’ve always been there for me, and I want to do the same for you.”

I felt a lump in my throat, touched by his sincerity. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.”

We hugged again, and I knew our bond had grown stronger through this experience. The restaurant became more than just a place of work; it was a place of growth, resilience, and family.

A father and his daughter embracing | Source: Pexels

A father and his daughter embracing | Source: Pexels

The incident with Donna reminded me that people’s true colors always come out eventually. My dad’s ex-girlfriend learned that lesson the hard way. That mocking others, especially family, has consequences. And for me, it was a sweet victory, knowing I stood up for myself!

A happy waitress standing at a restaurant's door | Source: Pexels

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