I Noticed Things Disappearing from My Sick Mother’s House, so I Installed Hidden Cameras and What I Saw Shocked Me — Story of the Day

Taking care of Mom was hard enough without the tension with my sister. Accusations flew when precious things started disappearing. I thought I knew who was to blame, but the truth shattered my world. Betrayal came from where I least expected, leaving me questioning everything—and everyone—I trusted.

I was scrubbing the kitchen counter after another exhausting day at work, the faint smell of bleach lingering in the air.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The more time I spent cleaning my mother’s house, the angrier I became with my younger sister, Jane. It felt like she’d completely forgotten this was her mother too.

This wasn’t unusual for Jane. In school, she was reckless—running away, taking money from Mom’s wallet, skipping classes. Yet, no matter what, she was always forgiven.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Jane’s brilliance seemed to excuse her flaws. She graduated with honors, earning a scholarship, and became the family’s golden child.

Now, Jane only visited Mom when she wanted something—or maybe to remind Mom of her presence so she’d stay in the will. Meanwhile, I faced the reality of Mom’s illness.

I had hired a caregiver, Nancy, but I couldn’t afford her full-time. After long shifts at work, I took care of Mom myself.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I had asked Jane to help, but she always brushed me off. “I’m busy with work,” she’d say.

But I knew she’d been unemployed for months. I had a job, a husband, and a son who needed me too.

“Violet!” Mom called from her room. Her voice sounded sharp, almost panicked. “Violet, come here!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m coming, Mom!” I called back, wiping my hands on a dish towel. I walked into her bedroom and saw her standing by her dresser. She was holding her jewelry box.

“My gold earrings are gone,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Are you sure you didn’t put them somewhere else?” I asked, stepping closer.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“No. I haven’t touched this box in a long time,” Mom said. “I wanted to give you something special to keep, but when I opened it, the earrings were gone.”

“Did anyone visit today?” I asked, frowning.

“No. Nancy had the day off,” Mom said. “Only Jane came by this morning. She just wanted to check on me.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll ask Jane about it,” I replied.

“Don’t,” Mom said firmly. “Jane wouldn’t steal. I don’t want you two fighting again.”

“I’ll be careful,” I promised. “I just need to ask.”

After Mom went to bed, I drove to Jane’s place. My frustration had boiled over. I knocked on her door and waited. It took a while, but finally, she opened it.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Hi, sis,” Jane said. She stepped aside, letting me in.

“Hi,” I replied, my voice cold. I glanced around her living room. Empty delivery boxes and tools were scattered everywhere.

“Working on something?” I asked, pointing at the mess.

“Just some stuff for work,” Jane replied. “But you didn’t come here to talk about that, did you?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Mom’s gold earrings are missing,” I said bluntly.

Jane folded her arms. “And you think I took them. Of course.”

“You were the only one who visited her today,” I said.

“Why would I take her earrings?” Jane asked, her tone sharp.

“Maybe because you’re broke. Maybe because you need money for some crazy stuff. Take your pick,” I snapped.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I have a job now! Do you even know how much I’ve done for this family?” Jane fired back.

“You’ve done nothing! I’m the one taking care of everything!” I shouted.

“I told you to hire someone full-time for Mom, but you didn’t!” Jane yelled.

“Because I’d be the one paying for it!” I screamed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You don’t know what’s really going on,” Jane said.

“Then tell me!” I demanded.

“Why should I? You’ll just keep blaming me for everything!” Jane said. She turned away. “Leave. I’m done with this.”

“Fine,” I said, slamming the door as I left.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

When I got home, Kaden was putting on his coat.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Just out for a walk,” my husband said, kissing my cheek. “Milo is asleep. Dinner’s in the fridge.” Then he walked out, leaving me in silence.

Kaden was a stay-at-home dad. We had agreed this was the best choice for our family. I spent most of my time either at work or taking care of Mom, leaving little time for anything else.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Milo needed stability, and having Kaden at home gave him that. Even with his hands full, Kaden often stepped in to help with Mom. He never complained, and for that, I was deeply thankful.

Over the next few weeks, Mom kept complaining that things were missing.

At first, I thought she was just confused, but then I started noticing it too. Little items—jewelry, keepsakes—were gone.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

It always happened on the days Jane visited. My frustration turned into anger. How could she be so selfish?

I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I drove to Jane’s house, determined to confront her face-to-face.

Jane opened the door and stepped aside, crossing her arms. “Here to accuse me of stealing again?” she asked, her voice sharp.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Mom has lost more things,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Jane raised an eyebrow. “And you think I took them? Why would I?”

“Because this is how you’ve always been! You’ve done this before, and I know you need money!” I snapped.

Jane’s face hardened. “Why don’t you ask your husband what it’s like to need money?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Don’t bring Kaden into this!” I shouted. “He’s the only one who actually helps me!”

Jane scoffed. “If you’re so sure, call the police. Go ahead. Do it.”

“Maybe I will!” I yelled. Without waiting for a response, I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Instead of calling the police, I made up my mind to install security cameras at Mom’s house.

I went to the store, picked out a set of cameras, and drove back, determined to catch whoever was taking her things.

When I walked into the house, I was surprised to see Nancy. Her shift was over hours ago.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What are you doing here?” I asked, setting the box of cameras on the table.

“Jane said she’d pay me to work more hours so you could get some rest,” Nancy replied, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“That doesn’t sound like her,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“Why not? She’s done it before,” Nancy said, looking puzzled. “She just asked me not to tell you.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I stared at her, unsure what to say. It didn’t fit the picture I had of Jane, but I couldn’t argue with Nancy’s words.

I grabbed the cameras and began setting them up in the living room and Mom’s bedroom.

When I finished, I noticed a pile of new medical bills on the kitchen counter. I flipped through them and felt a lump in my throat. The amounts were enormous.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Nancy!” I called out. “Do you know anything about these bills? They weren’t here before.”

Nancy walked over and glanced at the papers. “Oh, they come every month. Jane usually pays them.”

Her words left me stunned. I was starting to think this was all some kind of prank.

A few days later, Mom called me from her room, her voice anxious. “My gold ring is gone,” she said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I felt my stomach twist. It was time to check the security cameras. I hadn’t told anyone about them—not even Mom—so whoever was taking things wouldn’t know to hide.

I sat at the kitchen table with my laptop, pulling up the footage. My heart raced as I fast-forwarded through hours of recording.

Then, I saw Jane. She was in Mom’s room, standing by the dresser. I leaned closer, certain I’d caught her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She opened the jewelry box and looked inside. My anger flared. But then, she closed the box and walked away without taking anything.

Relief turned to dread as the next clip played. A few hours later, Kaden appeared.

I watched in stunned silence as he walked to the jewelry box, took Mom’s gold ring, and slipped it into his pocket before leaving.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I froze, unable to process what I was seeing. I had spent weeks blaming Jane, only to find out I had been wrong all along. My husband—my partner—was the thief.

I took the footage and drove home, my mind spinning. When I arrived, Kaden was putting on his coat, ready to leave again. I stepped in front of him, blocking the door.

“I know everything,” I said, my voice shaking.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you’ve been stealing from my mom,” I said, holding up the flash drive.

His face went pale. “Did Jane tell you?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“What? No! Why would Jane tell me?” I asked, anger and confusion swirling.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Kaden sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Because I borrowed money from her. When she found out why, she stopped lending me more. She even offered to pay for rehab, but I refused. Then she caught me taking your mom’s jewelry.”

I felt like I had been punched in the gut. “I can’t believe this!” I shouted. “Why? Why would you lie to me and steal from my family?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I started gambling. I thought I could win it back, but I kept losing. The debts grew faster than I could handle. I borrowed more to cover the old ones,” he confessed, his voice cracking.

“How could you?!” I yelled. “I thought you were spending time with Milo, being the father he needs. Instead, you wasted my money, Jane’s money, and Mom’s things!”

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Kaden said quietly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“And yet you didn’t stop me from blaming Jane,” I said, my anger boiling over. “You let me attack her while you hid.”

“I know. I hate myself for it,” Kaden said, his eyes downcast. “I’m ashamed.”

“I want you to leave,” I said firmly.

“Do you want a divorce?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t know. What I do know is I can’t look at you right now. Pack your things tomorrow while I’m at work. I’ll text you when I’m ready to talk.”

He nodded slowly, tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Violet. I love you and Milo so much,” he whispered before leaving.

As soon as the door closed, I broke down, tears pouring down my face. After checking on Milo, who was sound asleep, I drove to Jane’s house.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

When she opened the door, I could barely speak. “I’m sorry,” I managed, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Jane pulled me into a hug without hesitation.

“And thank you,” I said through sobs. “For everything. Even for helping Kaden.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I didn’t do it for him,” Jane said softly. “I did it for you, Violet.”

“Please forgive me, please,” I begged.

“It’s okay. I’ll always be here for you,” Jane said, holding me tightly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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My stepdaughter insisted that I transfer all of her late father’s assets to her – I did as she asked, but it didn’t turn out the way she expected

George’s absence haunts their home, his memory wrapped in his shirt that Mariana clutches each night. Yet, it wasn’t his death that shattered her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s demand for his assets. When she finally gave in, a twist emerged, leaving Susan furious and Mariana oddly at peace.

Moving on after losing a loved one is never easy. Sometimes, I still hear my hubby George’s voice in the back of my head. I wake up clutching his favorite shirt, his scent lingering on the fabric. But while I was still grieving his loss, what my stepdaughter did… it completely shattered me…

I’m Mariana, 57 years old, and I was married to the most wonderful man, George, for 25 years. He had a daughter, Susan, 34, from a previous marriage.

Our relationship with Susan used to be fine. She called me “Mom” and filled the void in my heart of not having a child of my own. I didn’t see her as “someone else’s” child. I loved her as my own daughter, you know.

When Susan got married to the man of her choice, George and I were overjoyed. But after that, everything went downhill when George was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

Susan’s visits dwindled from weekly to monthly, then stopped altogether. She barely came to see her father, occasionally calling me to ask about his condition.

One day, she asked me something that tore me apart. “How many more days does he have left to live?”

I gripped the phone tightly, my voice trembling. “Susan, your father isn’t some product with an expiry date.”

“I just want to know, Mom. I’m busy, you know that… I can’t be visiting often,” she replied.

“Busy?” I echoed, disbelief coloring my tone. “Too busy to see your dying father?”

She sighed heavily. “Look, I’ll try to visit soon, okay?”

But that “soon” never came.

Then, the day I dreaded finally arrived. The hospital called, informing me that George had passed peacefully.

I was shattered, barely able to stand as the news sunk in. My George, my beloved George, was gone.

To my shock and disappointment, Susan didn’t even attend his funeral. When I called her, she had an excuse ready.

“You know that I just delivered my baby last month, Mom,” she said, her voice oddly detached. “The doctors advised against long travel due to some health issues.”

I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “But Susan, it’s your father’s funeral. Don’t you want to see him one last time?”

“I can’t risk my baby’s health,” she replied curtly. “You understand, right?”

I didn’t, not really, but I nodded silently, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Of course, sweetie. Take care.”

As I hung up and sat near my husband’s coffin, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something had fundamentally changed between us.

Six months after George’s passing, I was startled by a loud knock on my door. Opening it, I found Susan and her husband Doug, accompanied by a stern-looking man in a suit.

Susan barged in without a greeting. “Mom, we need you to sign some papers.”

I blinked, confused. “What papers?”

Doug thrust a stack of documents at me, including a blank sheet. “Just sign these. It’s for transferring all the assets into our names.”

“Excuse me?” I stepped back, my heart racing. “What are you talking about?”

Susan rolled her eyes. “Dad’s assets, Mom. We’re here to claim what’s rightfully ours.”

Their audacity left me speechless. If only George had left a will, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I would have ensured my daughter was taken care of before she even knew there was a problem.

But this? Their tone and audacity irked me. How could they think I’d just stand by and let them walk all over me?

“No,” I said firmly, finding my voice. “I want you to leave my house right now. And don’t you dare come back with such awful demands.”

Susan’s face contorted with anger. “You can’t do this! You’re not even my REAL MOTHER!”

Her words hit me like a bag of bricks. I stumbled back, tears welling in my eyes. “Susan, how can you say that? After all these years?”

“Just stick to your boundaries and pass on my father’s assets to me,” she spat.

I felt my blood pressure rising, my vision blurring with tears and rage. “Get out of my house!” I shouted. “Your father would be heartbroken if he knew what a greedy daughter you’ve become. I’m glad my George didn’t live to see this day.”

Susan launched into a tirade, her words becoming a blur of insults and demands.

“How dare you, Mariana? George was my father, not yours, and you have no right to anything here!” she yelled. “You think you can wiggle your way in here and take what’s ours? Over my dead body!”

That did it. Tears sprang from my eyes. Susan… the daughter my George and I had raised practically stabbed me with her words alone.

But no, I wouldn’t let them break me. Not me. Not Mariana.

“This is my home, and you’re not welcome! Take your greed and get out before I call the cops!” I retorted.

“Do you have any idea what you’re putting us through? You’re nothing but a greedy vulture, circling around for scraps my father left behind!” Susan barked.

“If you had an ounce of decency, you’d leave right now! But clearly, that’s asking too much!” I snapped.

“You think a few harsh words will scare us? Just sign the damn papers, lady!” Doug yelled at me.

I felt cornered by the daughter I’d loved and raised. I was furious and heartbroken.

When they refused to leave, my neighbor, hearing the commotion, rushed over. “You heard her! This isn’t your place, and you’re not welcome. Move it!” he physically escorted Susan and Doug out.

As they left, Susan’s furious voice echoed back. “This isn’t over, Mariana! You’ll regret this!”

I slumped onto the couch, my heart aching. Where had all that love we once shared vanished? How could greed twist my daughter into someone I barely recognized?

With trembling hands, I reached for George’s framed photo on the side table. Tears blurred my vision as I traced his smiling face.

“Oh, George,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Why didn’t you take me with you? I’m lost without you.”

A sob escaped my throat as I clutched the frame to my chest. “Our daughter… our sweet Susan… she’s a stranger to me now. What happened to the little girl who used to call me Mom?”

The silence of the empty house pressed in around me, amplifying my grief. I rocked back and forth, the photo cool against my tear-stained cheeks.

“I miss you so much, honey,” I choked out. “I don’t know how to face this alone.”

Susan’s calls didn’t stop after that. Day and night, my phone buzzed with her angry messages and voicemails. Finally, exhausted and desperate for peace, I decided to give in.

I met with my lawyer, determined to give Susan what she wanted and be done with it. But there was something neither of us knew.

A week later, Susan stormed into my home again, her face red with fury.

“HOW DID YOU DO THIS?” she screamed. “I only get $3,000 and an old car? What about everything else?”

I stared at her, a small smile forming on my face. “What are you talking about?”

Susan waved a paper in my face. “This! This pathetic inheritance you told the lawyer to give me! Where’s everything else?”

I took the paper from her, a small smile dancing on my lips. According to this, George only had $3,000 in his bank account, an old Mustang, and some debts.

“What about the house? The SUV? Dad’s old farmhouse?” Susan snapped.

You see, my lawyer, whom I’d called the other day, arrived and explained the situation. And this is what he said:

“Mrs. Anderson, everything the family owned is in your name. The house, the SUV, the farmhouse, everything. Mr. Anderson transferred it all to you years ago, keeping just three grand in his bank account and his old Mustang. It’s up to you now to decide the fate of these assets.”

Until the lawyer dropped the bomb, I’d assumed George had left me nothing. But no! He had made sure I’d be taken care of after he was gone. Bless his soul.

Susan’s face twisted with rage when I spilled the tea. “You’re lying! This can’t be true!” she hissed.

I looked at her, a strange calm settling over me. “Well, Susan, you wanted your father’s assets. Now you have them.”

“This isn’t fair!” she shrieked. “You tricked me!”

I looked up, a gentle smile plastered on my face. “No, Susan. I gave you exactly what you asked for… what rightfully belonged to your father. And now, I’m keeping what rightfully belongs to me.”

In the days that followed, I made a decision. I sold everything — the house, the SUV, the farmhouse, all of it. I made a decent eight figures, and bought a beautiful villa in a place I’d always dreamed of living, far from everyone.

As I settled into my new home, I received a call from an old friend back in town.

“Mariana,” she said, her voice hushed. “I thought you should know. Susan’s trying to start litigation against you.”

I sighed, unsurprised. “Let me guess, it fell through?”

“Yep. Everything was in your name, after all!”

I thanked her for the information and hung up, feeling a pang of sadness and relief.

Weeks passed, and I started to enjoy my new life. I traveled around the world, tried new hobbies, made new friends. But the peace didn’t last.

One day, my phone rang with an unfamiliar number. When I answered, I heard a man’s voice. “Mrs. Anderson? I’m calling on behalf of Susan. She wants to meet with you.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. “No,” I said firmly. “I’m not interested.”

“But Mrs. Anderson, she insists—”

I cut him off. “Tell Susan she got what she wanted. I have nothing more to say to her.”

As I ended the call, I couldn’t help but wonder why Susan was so desperate to meet now. What more could she possibly want? The fragments of my remaining peace?

I shook my head, pushing the thought away. It didn’t matter. I had a new life now, and I intended to live it to the fullest. After all, isn’t that what George would have wanted?

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