I never expected my life to change so drastically when I took the job as a caregiver for Mrs. Blackwood. She was a sharp-tongued, secretive woman, but I thought my role was simple—until she decided to rewrite her will in my favor, cutting out her own grandchildren. That decision pulled me straight into a storm of family secrets.
At the time, I was young, unemployed, and full of doubts. I had my nursing diploma, but no job prospects. Higher education in the city felt like a cruel joke, and weeks of failed interviews had left me restless, staring at an uncertain future.
Then, one morning, a small ad in the newspaper caught my eye:
“Nanny needed for an elderly lady who cannot walk. Live-in position.”
It felt like a lifeline. I wasted no time and went straight to the interview.
When I arrived at the grand but slightly weathered mansion, the heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing a young man who looked to be in his early twenties.
“You must be here for the nanny position,” he said with a polite but distant smile. “I’m Edward.”
Before I could respond, a young woman appeared behind him, her expression unreadable.
“And I’m Emily. Grandma’s expecting you,” she added, her voice pleasant but detached, as if this were just another tedious task to complete.
They guided me inside, their movements mechanical, like they were being courteous out of duty rather than warmth.
“Grandma’s upstairs,” Edward said, gesturing toward the staircase. “We’ll let her take it from here.”
They disappeared down the hall, and I was left alone, feeling oddly unwelcome.
Mrs. Blackwood greeted me with a smile that radiated confidence. She was in bed, but there was nothing frail about her presence. Her silver hair was perfectly styled, her nails polished, and when she laughed, it was deep and hearty.
“Ah, you must be Mia,” she said, her voice warm but commanding. “Come in, dear. Sit down.”
I hesitated for a moment. She didn’t match the image of a helpless elderly woman I had in my mind.
“Don’t just stand there,” she teased, patting the edge of the bed. “Sit! Have a doughnut. No one should face the world hungry.”
“Thank you,” I replied, cautiously picking one from the plate on her nightstand.
Her sharp eyes studied me like she was reading my entire life story.
“So, tell me,” she said, leaning back slightly, “why do you want this job?”
“I need it. And I believe I can help you,” I answered, choosing my words carefully.
She nodded approvingly. “Honesty. That’s rare these days. Well, Mia, welcome aboard.”
That’s how my life in the Blackwood house began.
The first few days were uneventful. I followed her routine, listened to her endless stories, and thought maybe this job would be simple. But then, the strangeness began.
One morning, I noticed a book on her nightstand had moved from the shelf.
“Did you read this last night, Mrs. Blackwood?” I asked, holding it up.
She smirked. “I don’t sleepwalk, dear.”
Then there were the curtains. I distinctly remembered leaving them open, yet they were drawn when I returned. And the flowers… They were freshly watered, even though I hadn’t touched them.
“Do Edward or Emily check on you at night?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Oh no,” she said with a laugh. “They’ve lived here since their parents passed, but they rarely bother to say goodnight.”
“But… someone’s moving things,” I pressed.
“They’ll come when the will is read,” she added cryptically.
Her words hung in the air like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Something was off, and I knew she was hiding something.
To make things feel more normal, I suggested changes. Instead of letting her eat alone in her room, I set the dining table.
“There’s something special about eating together,” I said, arranging the plates. “It feels more… alive.”
Mrs. Blackwood arched an eyebrow but smiled. “You’re full of ideas, aren’t you, Mia?”
Edward and Emily weren’t thrilled. The first night, they eyed the table like it was a foreign concept.
“What’s this?” Emily asked, frowning.
“Dinner,” I replied cheerfully. “It’s nice to eat together, don’t you think?”
Edward hesitated. “But Grandma always eats in her room.”
“Not anymore,” I said, pulling out a chair for him. “She deserves company, don’t you agree?”
Reluctantly, they sat down.
Later, I introduced reading nights. Twice a week, we read a book together, discussing it over tea. Mrs. Blackwood loved it, but soon, Edward and Emily began making excuses to skip. Eventually, it was just the two of us.
One evening, over dinner, Mrs. Blackwood spoke up.
“Next week, my lawyer will be visiting to make some changes to my will.”
Edward and Emily froze.
“Changes?” Emily repeated.
“Yes,” she said calmly. “I’ve decided everything will go to Mia.”
“You’re joking!” Emily gasped.
“Oh, I’m quite serious,” Mrs. Blackwood said. “Mia has shown me more love and care than either of you in years.”
Edward’s face darkened. “But we’re your grandchildren!”
“Then perhaps you should start acting like it,” she said coolly.
Overnight, Edward and Emily became model grandchildren. They brought her flowers, breakfast, and doted on her in ways they never had before.
One morning, Edward arranged a vase of tulips.
“Flowers for you, Grandma! I remember how much you love tulips.”
Mrs. Blackwood glanced at them. “Do you? That’s odd because I prefer orchids.”
Emily wasn’t far behind, carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.
“Breakfast in the living room today, Grandma!” she chirped.
Mrs. Blackwood sipped her tea. “Too bad you didn’t think of this sooner.”
But despite their sudden devotion, she remained firm. One night, after Emily prepared an extravagant dinner, she made her final announcement.
“My decision is final.”
Their smiles disappeared. The next day, Edward cornered me.
“We’ve decided your services are no longer needed.”
I nodded. “Alright. I’ll pack my things.”
That night, Mrs. Blackwood called me to her room.
“It’s time for you to act. Rent a car, park it near the house at midnight, and wait in the garden when the lights go out. Be ready for anything.”
I stared at her. “But what’s going to happen?”
She smiled. “Trust me. You’ll see.”
At midnight, I watched as the lights went out. A shadow moved through the darkness. The back door creaked open, and a figure in a black cloak emerged.
“Mrs. Blackwood?” I whispered.
“Come,” she commanded, moving faster than I thought possible.
We reached the car, and she slid into the driver’s seat.
“You can drive?” I gasped.
She grinned. “Did you think I stayed in bed for fun?”
She revealed her plan—it was all a test. Edward and Emily had to stand on their own.
True to her word, she left them nothing. They were forced to change, to make something of themselves.
As for me, I returned to my hospital internship, carrying not just a glowing recommendation but an extraordinary friendship that taught me the true value of self-worth.
