When my estranged father, who left 20 years ago, called from his deathbed, I was torn between anger and curiosity. His final wish was something I never expected, and what he revealed about his disappearance shattered everything I thought I knew.
I was getting ready for bed when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. The number was unfamiliar, so I let it go to voicemail. Not even a minute later, a text came through: “ALICE, THIS IS YOUR DAD. PLEASE CALL, I AM IN THE HOSPITAL.”
A woman in her bedroom at night, looking at her phone | Source: Midjourney
My heart stopped. Dad? After twenty years? I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the message. Part of me wanted to delete it and forget, but curiosity won. I called the number back.
“Hello?” The voice was weak, barely audible.
“Dad?”
“Alice, it’s me. I… I don’t have much time.”
“Why are you calling now?” My voice was harsher than I intended.
“I need to explain… to ask something of you. But please, don’t tell your mother.”
Doctors standing beside a hospital bed, looking concerned | Source: Pexels
There it was, the same secrecy that defined my childhood. “What do you want?”
He took a shaky breath. “I left because your grandfather, Harold, paid me to disappear. He hated me, thought I was a failure. He found someone else for your mom, someone better.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Grandpa? He did that?”
“Yes. I was struggling back then. Addictions, bad decisions. Your grandfather saw a chance to get rid of me, and I took the money.”
A sick-looking man lying in bed | Source: Pexels
“So you just left us for money?” Anger bubbled up.
“I know it sounds awful. But I invested that money, built a business. It was all for you, Alice. To secure your future.”
“Why didn’t you ever come back?”
“Part of the deal. I couldn’t approach you or your mom. But I was there, watching. I saw your graduation, your volleyball games. I was always there, just… from a distance.”
I felt like my world was tilting. “Why didn’t Mom ever tell me?”
An old man in a hospital bed talking on a cell phone | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t want you to hate him. Or maybe she thought she was protecting you.”
“What do you want now?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“I need to see you, Alice. One last time before I go. I’m at St. Mary’s Hospital.”
I didn’t know what to say. Could I face him after everything?
“Please, Alice. It’s my dying wish.”
The exterior of a hospital building at night | Source: Midjourney
The line went silent, and I sat there, the phone still in my hand, my thoughts tumbling. Should I go? What would I even say to him? I needed to think, but there was no time. He was dying.
The next morning, I called in sick to work and sat in my kitchen, staring at my coffee. Should I tell Mom? But he’d asked me not to.
I called my best friend, Jen. “Hey, can we talk?”
“Of course. What’s up?”
A woman talking on a cell phone | Source: Pexels
“It’s… it’s my dad. He called last night.”
“Your dad? The one who left?”
“Yeah. He’s dying, and he wants to see me.”
“Wow. How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know. Angry, confused. He told me things, Jen. About my Grandpa.”
“Like what?”
“That my grandfather paid him to leave. He said he was there at my graduation, my games. But he couldn’t approach us.”
“That’s insane. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. He wants me to visit him, but I’m not sure I can.”
A woman in conversation on a cell phone | Source: Pexels
Jen was silent for a moment. “Maybe you should go. Get some answers. Closure.”
“I guess. But I don’t know if I’m ready to face him.”
“Take your time, but don’t take too long. If he’s dying…”
“I know. Thanks, Jen.”
After hanging up, I sat back, deep in thought. Jen was right. Maybe I did need closure. I couldn’t keep living with these unanswered questions. And if he really was dying… I had to see him.
A woman driving a car | Source: Pexels
I decided to go to the hospital. As I drove, memories of my childhood flashed through my mind. The good times before he left, the confusion and pain afterward. The way Mom never spoke about him, the unanswered questions that haunted me.
I walked into the hospital room, feeling the weight of years and unanswered questions pressing down on me. The beeping machines filled the stark room with an unsettling rhythm. My dad lay in the bed, looking more frail than I had ever imagined. His eyes lit up when he saw me, a weak smile forming on his lips.
An old man sitting up in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
“Alice,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
“Hi, Dad.” I stood at the foot of the bed, not sure what to say. Anger and confusion swirled inside me, but seeing him like this, so vulnerable, made it hard to voice them.
“You came,” he said, relief evident in his eyes.
“I had to. I needed to understand why.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry for everything.” He reached out a trembling hand, and I took it, feeling the cold, fragile skin.
A young woman close to an old man in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
“Why did you do it, Dad? Why did you take Grandpa’s money and leave us?”
He sighed, a deep, rattling sound. “I thought it was the best way to secure a future for you and your mother. I was a mess, Alice. Addicted, broke. Your grandfather offered me a way out, a chance to give you a better life, even if it meant I couldn’t be part of it.”
“Do you know how much that hurt us? How much it hurt me?” Tears welled up in my eyes. “You missed everything, Dad. My graduation, my volleyball games, my entire life.”
A woman with tears in her eyes | Source: Midjourney
“I was there, Alice. Watching from afar. It broke my heart not to be with you, but I thought I was doing the right thing.” He paused, struggling for breath. “I tried to make it right. I invested the money, built something that I hoped would help you.”
“Why didn’t you come back when you were better?”
“I couldn’t. Part of the deal was that I had to stay away. But I wrote to you, Alice. Letters, every year. They’re in a safety deposit box. Here.” He handed me a small key. “After I’m gone, open it. You’ll find proof of everything, and the letters.”
A small key in the palm of a hand | Source: Pexels
I took the key, my fingers trembling. “Why now, Dad? Why tell me all this now?”
“Because I’m dying, and I can’t leave this world without you knowing the truth. I love you, Alice. I’ve always loved you.”
Tears streamed down my face as I gripped his hand. “I needed you, Dad. I needed my father.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. But I hope you’ll understand why I did what I did when you read those letters.”
An apparently comatose figure in a hospital bed | Source: Pexels
We sat in silence, holding hands, the machines’ beeping the only sound in the room. After a while, his breathing became more labored. He squeezed my hand one last time, and then he was gone.
I left the hospital feeling a mix of emotions. Relief, anger, sadness, and a strange sense of closure. The next day, I went to the bank and used the key to open the safety deposit box. Inside, I found stacks of financial documents and a bundle of letters, each one addressed to me, dated over the years.
A corridor of safety deposit boxes | Source: Midjourney
I took the letters home and spent hours reading them. Each one was filled with his regrets, his love, his hopes for my future. He wrote about the business he built, how he watched over me, how proud he was of my achievements.
By the time I finished the last letter, my anger had softened into a deep, aching sadness.
With the financial documents, it was clear that my father had indeed worked hard to secure my future. The money he left behind was substantial, enough to change my life. But it wasn’t just about the money. It was about understanding his choices, his sacrifices, and his love.
A woman takes up a hand-written letter | Source: Pexels
I knew I had to talk to my mom. I needed to know her side of the story. When I confronted her, she looked at me with sad eyes.
“I knew about the offer,” she admitted. “I didn’t stop it because I thought it was best for you too. I thought you deserved a better life than what your father could give you at that time.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I wanted to protect you from the truth, to let you remember him without bitterness. Maybe I was wrong, but I did what I thought was best.”
An elderly woman looking down thoughtfully | Source: Pexels
Her confession was another piece of the puzzle, helping me to understand the complex web of decisions that shaped my life.
In the end, I decided to use the money to start a scholarship fund in my father’s name. It felt like the right way to honor his memory and his efforts. It was a way to help others, just as he had tried to help me.
As I launched the scholarship, I felt a sense of peace. The past was complicated and painful, but it had brought me to where I was. And now, with the truth out in the open, I could move forward, honoring both my father’s love and my mother’s sacrifices.
A woman making calculations with a pen in hand | Source: Pexels
What would you have done in these circumstances? If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you about an older woman who is embarrassed to tell her son about the new man in her life, but the truth is exposed when she is rushed to the hospital.
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.
I Overslept on the Morning of My Crucial College Entrance Exams Because Someone Turned off My Alarm
The morning of my medical college entrance exam I woke up late to find all my alarms mysteriously turned off. As I raced against time, my 8-year-old brother stepped in with a plan that would save everything.
Ever since I was little, I dreamed of becoming a doctor. When my mom died of cancer, that dream only grew stronger. I wanted to help people like her, to understand the disease that had taken her and to help others fight it.
A dreaming woman | Source: Pexels
I worked for this moment for years, through late nights, countless books, and more exams than I could count. Today, all that work was about to pay off: it was finally the day of my medical entrance exam.
Last night, I did everything to make sure I wouldn’t oversleep. I set three alarms on my phone—6:00 a.m., 6:15 a.m., and 6:30 a.m. I even left my curtains open so that the sunlight would wake me up. As I lay in bed, I thought of my mom, promising myself I’d make her proud.
A sleeping woman | Source: Pexels
When I opened my eyes the next morning, something felt wrong. It was dark, too dark. I reached for my phone, and my heart stopped—9:55 a.m. My exam started at 10:00.
“No, no, no! This can’t be happening!” I threw my blankets off and grabbed my phone. All three alarms were turned off.
“I know I set these!” I muttered, my hands shaking as I got dressed in record time. My mind raced with questions. How did this happen?
A shocked woman in her bed | Source: Pexels
I bolted down the stairs, half-dressed, my hair flying everywhere. “Linda!” I called out, desperately looking for my stepmom. “Linda, please! I need a ride to the college. My exam is in five minutes!”
She was in the kitchen, sipping her coffee calmly, her eyes following me with a look I couldn’t quite place. She raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that was as cold as her coffee cup was hot.
A woman sipping coffee | Source: Pexels
“You’re late already,” she said flatly. “Maybe next time, you should learn to set an alarm properly.”
“I did set them!” I almost shouted, feeling the sting of frustration and panic in my voice. “I triple-checked. They were on, all three of them.”
An angry woman | Source: Pexels
She shrugged, a slight smirk on her lips. “Clearly, you didn’t. Maybe this is a sign that you’re not cut out for med school, hmm? If you can’t even manage to wake up on time, how will you handle something serious, like a patient?”
I stood there, feeling my face grow hot, my mind swirling with disbelief and desperation. This couldn’t be real. My stepmom wouldn’t do this to me, would she?
An angry woman in a red T-shirt | Source: Pexels
I turned toward the door, knowing I’d never make it on foot but feeling I had to try. Just as I reached for the handle, I heard a small voice behind me.
“I know who did it,” my little brother Jason said, his voice shaking with nervousness but his eyes steady.
I turned, confused. “Jason, what are you talking about?”
A young boy | Source: Pexels
He took a small step forward, looking at Linda cautiously. “I saw her. Last night. She turned off your alarms, Emily.”
Linda shot him a sharp look. “Jason, stop making up stories,” she hissed.
Jason gulped but didn’t back down. “I’m not lying! I saw you go into her room, pick up her phone, and turn off the alarms. You said she didn’t need to be at that stupid exam anyway.”
A serious boy | Source: Pexels
My mind was spinning. I looked at Linda, searching her face for denial, for any sign she’d say it was a misunderstanding. But she just sighed, crossing her arms.
“You know what, Emily?” she said coolly, her voice hardening. “Fine. Yes, I did it. You’re not fit to be a doctor. It’s a waste of time, energy, and, frankly, a lot of money that your dad could spend on something worthwhile.”
“Like… your beauty salon?” The words came out before I could stop them.
An angry middle-aged woman | Source: Freepik
Just as I was about to push past her and leave, I heard sirens in the distance, getting louder, heading toward our house.
Jason, now clutching my hand, gave me a small, hopeful smile. “Don’t worry, Em. I called for help.”
Linda’s face hardened as she looked at Jason, who stood at my side, clutching my hand. “You seriously did this?” she asked, barely able to form the words.
The police sirens | Source: Pexels
Jason’s small voice cut through the tension. “You are the bad guy, Linda,” he said, his eyes fierce despite his small frame. “Emily is going to be a doctor one day. Mom would be proud of her.”
Linda’s face twisted, and before she could say anything, the wailing sirens outside grew louder. I watched her look toward the window, her eyes widening with surprise.
The front door opened, and two police officers stepped inside. One of them, a tall, broad man, spoke with a calm authority. “Is everything alright here?”
A policeman on duty | Source: Pexels
Jason didn’t miss a beat. “I called you,” he said, standing tall despite his young age. “My sister needs to get to her entrance exam. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss it.”
The officer’s eyes moved to Linda, who immediately put on an innocent act. “This is absurd!” she scoffed, folding her arms. “They’re just children, making things up because they’re late.”
But the other officer, a woman with kind eyes, knelt down to Jason’s level. “You called us to help your sister?” she asked gently.
A serious policewoman | Source: Pexels
Jason nodded vigorously. “Yes. Emily studied so hard, and she was ready. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss her test.”
The officers exchanged a glance, then turned to me. “Is that true?” the male officer asked.
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling the weight of everything settle over me. “I have to get to my college right now, or I’ll lose my chance to take the exam.”
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
The officers nodded, exchanging another glance. “Alright, young lady,” the female officer said, standing up, “We’re going to get you there.”
Linda’s face contorted with disbelief. “Wait, you’re actually going to escort her?” she stammered, her voice full of frustration. “This is ridiculous!”
“It’s our job to help people,” the officer replied, coolly dismissing Linda. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
A serious policeman | Source: Pexels
I turned to Jason, who was smiling proudly, a little hero in his own right. “Thank you, Jason,” I whispered, hugging him tight. “You saved me.”
As I left with the officers, Linda’s face was a mix of fury and disbelief. The officers helped me into their squad car, and we sped down the road with the sirens blaring, weaving through traffic as we approached the college. My heart pounded in my chest, but this time, it was with determination.
A police car in the city | Source: Pexels
At the exam center, we pulled up just minutes before the doors were set to close. The officers stepped out with me, guiding me toward the entrance.
One of the proctors noticed us and approached, looking confused. “Ma’am, the exam is about to begin,” he said, glancing at the officers.
The policewoman explained quickly. “This young lady had her alarms sabotaged at home, but she’s here now. I understand if you can’t make exceptions, but if there’s any way she can sit for the exam…”
A policewoman talking | Source: Pexels
The proctor’s stern face softened as he listened. He looked me in the eyes, as if weighing my sincerity, then gave a brief nod. “Alright. Go on in.”
“Thank you,” I managed, barely believing I’d made it.
I found my seat, still rattled but refusing to let the morning’s events get the better of me. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a second, and thought of my mom. This was my moment, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it from me. I picked up my pencil and began the test.
A young woman writing an exam | Source: Pexels
Hours later, I walked out of the exam room, exhausted but relieved. The officers who had helped me were gone, but I felt their kindness in every step as I headed home. Jason was waiting on the front steps, and he jumped up as soon as he saw me.
“Did you do it?” he asked eagerly, his eyes bright with hope.
I nodded, a smile breaking out despite my exhaustion. “I did, thanks to you.”
A young smiling woman | Source: Freepik
He threw his arms around me. “I knew you could.”
Inside, my dad was waiting. His face was pale, his mouth set in a grim line. He’d been waiting for me to come home to hear everything. Jason took the lead, explaining every detail of what had happened while I was gone.
A smiling young boy | Source: Unsplash
My dad’s face grew red with anger, his eyes narrowing as he looked over at Linda, who was trying to look calm and unaffected. “Is this true?” he demanded, his voice trembling with restrained fury.
Linda’s eyes darted between us. “I… I was just trying to keep her from a mistake. I didn’t mean for it to go so far,” she mumbled, finally looking cornered.
“You sabotaged her dreams because of your own selfishness,” my dad said coldly. “You’re not staying here another night.”
An angry man | Source: Pexels
Linda’s face turned pale as she realized he was serious. She tried to protest, but he shook his head firmly. “Pack your things, Linda. This family deserves better than this.”
Jason and I stood by the door, watching as she finally left. There was no satisfaction in it, just a sense of justice and relief.
A woman looking through a gate | Source: Pexels
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: I was heartbroken and furious when I discovered my mother-in-law Linda and her friends had devoured my $1000 wedding cake. I couldn’t believe they would ruin my special day on purpose, leaving only crumbs behind. Determined to teach my spiteful mother-in-law a lesson, I started plotting my revenge.
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.
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