Cashier Learns She Owns a $3.8M Business after Finding Will in Her Name — Story of the Day

An unusual letter provides the catalyst for one woman to uncover a secret kept from her for years, and receive unexpected wealth.

Gregory locked the door to the small corner shop where he’d worked as a cashier for the last twenty years. His coat was too old and thin to keep the chill from his bones as he walked home, but he smiled nonetheless. It had been another great day at work.

Gregory’s wife had never understood how he found satisfaction in what she called a low-level job. She’d left him because she felt he lacked ambition, but he still had his daughter.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Linda was standing in the foyer of the apartment block where she and Gregory lived when he entered the building. She had also recently started working as a cashier and still wore her uniform. In one hand, she held a letter.

“What have you got there, Linda?” Gregory asked as he approached her.

Linda looked up, startled. “You tell me, Dad. I’m too scared to open it.”

Gregory frowned and took the letter from his daughter. The name of a legal practice was printed on the envelope.

“Why would a lawyer be contacting me?”

Gregory shrugged. He tore the envelope open and studied the papers inside. His jaw dropped, and his fingers began shaking as he read.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“It’s… strange. According to this letter, somebody has left you a business comprising three restaurants, and it’s worth nearly four million dollars.”

“What!” Linda snatched the letter from Gregory’s hands. “It’s got to be a scam.”

“I did this to find out whether you’re a good person.”

“There’s an easy way to find out.” Gregory leaned over to indicate the lawyer’s phone number on the letterhead.

Linda called the lawyer and arranged a meeting for the next day. Gregory accompanied her.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“This has got to be a mistake,” Linda told the lawyer when they entered his office.

“I don’t know anyone who would leave me a business.”

The lawyer shook his head. “There’s no mistake, Miss. My client, Matthew Markham, was very particular in his instructions.”

Gregory felt as though he’d been electrocuted. “Please, say that name again.”

“Matthew Markham.”

Gregory understood everything then. He hung his head and burst into tears.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A few months earlier…

Matthew shivered with anxiety as he approached the cashier. He set down the packet of gum and stared at the man who rang it up. The nametag on his chest said ‘Gregory.’ He was the right man.

“Sir? Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Matthew realized he’d zoned out and handed the cashier a five-dollar bill. “But I do need to talk to you. It’s about Linda.”

The man looked up sharply at the customer who had just uttered his little daughter’s name. “Is she in some kind of trouble?”

Matthew shook his head. “Do you have a few minutes, please?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Matthew and Gregory arranged to meet at a diner nearby during Gregory’s lunch break. While Matthew waited, he thought over the revelations that had brought him to this point.

A few days earlier, he’d been discussing his terminal illness with a close friend, Jeremy, and lamenting that he had no heirs to whom he could leave his restaurant business.

Then Jeremy dropped a bombshell on him: Matthew had a daughter he didn’t know about. His ex-girlfriend had died in childbirth, and the baby was placed up for adoption.

Matthew immediately hired a detective to track her down. Days later, he was finally sitting down with Gregory, the man who’d adopted his daughter.

Matthew explained to Gregory that he was Linda’s biological father and then asked the question that was foremost in his mind:

“Does Linda know she was adopted?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“No, and you can’t tell her, sir.” Gregory looked at him pleadingly. “My wife left me a couple of months back, and I can’t lose Linda too. Please, don’t take her from me.”

Matthew was torn. He wanted to know his daughter but didn’t want to cause problems for the man who’d raised her. He also didn’t want to upset his daughter’s life by introducing himself when he only had a few months more to live.

“What is she like?” Matthew asked. “Is she a good person?”

Gregory smiled. “She’s an amazing person. She’s kind and treats everyone equally.”

Matthew nodded. He was starting to get an idea.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The next day, Matthew disguised himself as a poor man and went to the store where Linda worked as a cashier. He took a few essential food items to her checkout and waited while she rang them up.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” he said once she told him the cost.

“I can’t afford all of that. I’ve only got ten dollars.”

“Don’t worry about it, sir.” Linda smiled at him. “I’ll cover the rest.”

Matthew left the store and returned a week later. This time, he wore his finest suit. He chose several of the most expensive items in the store and again went to Linda’s checkout.

“Get out of the way,” Matthew shouted as he pushed his way to the front of the queue. “I’m in a hurry and need to be served fast.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

He set his purchases down in front of Linda and waved his hands at her. “Hurry up, girl, I’ve got an important meeting to attend.”

“Then you’ll have to tell them you’re going to be delayed.” Linda pushed his purchases aside and gestured to the woman behind him. “You’re next, ma’am.”

“I need to be served first!” Matthew exclaimed.

“That’s too bad, sir. I don’t allow anyone to push to the front of the queue, no matter how important you think you are.”

Matthew grinned from ear to ear. “I’m glad you said that.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He reached for a bouquet of yellow lilies and placed the cash to pay for them on the counter. “These are for you, Linda. My name is Matthew, and I did this to find out whether you’re a good person.”

“Do me one favor, please, and remember my name when you see these lilies.”

Present day…

“Matthew is the name of your biological father, Linda,” Gregory said. “You’re adopted.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

“I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to feel bad about it. Then your mother left, and I was afraid you’d leave me too if you knew I wasn’t your real father.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Linda hugged him. “I’d never do that, dad.”

The lawyer cleared his throat. “As I was saying, my client bequeathed his three restaurants to you, his sole heir, when he passed away a month ago. These restaurants are each worth over a million dollars.”

“Mr. Markham also had a special request. He wanted me to give you something.”

The lawyer left the room and soon returned with a bouquet of yellow lilies, which he presented to Linda.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Linda cradled the flowers in her arms. “I understand now.” She turned to Gregory. “He came into my shop once and asked that I remember his name when I see yellow lilies.”

Gregory placed a hand on Linda’s shoulder. “I’m sure he was very proud of you, Linda, and will continue to be proud of you from heaven.”

What can we learn from this story?

Treat people equally, and you will be rewarded. Matthew was encouraged to leave his business to Linda when he saw that she was a good person.

One can find happiness in a simple life. Gregory and Linda were both happy to work as cashiers and earn an honest living.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who discovers the house she’s been cleaning for the past ten years belongs to her.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

My Wife Died in a Plane Crash 23 Years Ago – If Only I’d Known It Wouldn’t Be Our Last Meeting

After losing my wife Emily in a plane crash, I learned to live with regret. I spent 23 years mourning my lost love, only to discover that fate had left me one more meeting with her and a jolting truth I’d never dreamed of.

I stood at Emily’s grave, my fingers tracing the cold marble headstone. Twenty-three years, and the pain still felt fresh. The roses I’d brought were bright against the gray stone, like drops of blood on snow.

A grieving man in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney

A grieving man in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry, Em,” I whispered, the words catching in my throat. “I should have listened.”

My phone buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts. I almost ignored it, but habit made me check the screen.

“Abraham?” my business partner James’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Sorry to bother you on your cemetery visit day.”

“It’s fine.” I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal. “What’s up?”

“Our new hire from Germany lands in a few hours. Could you pick her up? I’m stuck in meetings all afternoon.”

A man holding a phone in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney

A man holding a phone in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney

I glanced at Emily’s headstone one last time. “Sure, I can do that.”

“Thanks, buddy. Her name’s Elsa. Flight lands at 2:30.”

“Text me the flight details. I’ll be there.”

The arrivals hall buzzed with activity as I held up my hastily made sign reading “ELSA.”

A young woman with honey-blonde hair caught my eye and walked over, pulling her suitcase. Something about her movement and the way she carried herself made my heart skip a beat.

A young woman in an airport waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

A young woman in an airport waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

“Sir?” Her accent was slight but noticeable. “I’m Elsa.”

“Welcome to Chicago, Elsa. Please, call me Abraham.”

“Abraham.” She smiled, and for a moment, I felt dizzy. That smile reminded me so much of something I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Shall we get your luggage?” I asked quickly, pushing the thought away.

On the drive to the office, she spoke about her move from Munich and her excitement about the new job. There was something familiar about her laugh and the way her eyes crinkled at the corners.

A man driving a car | Source: Midjourney

A man driving a car | Source: Midjourney

“I hope you don’t mind,” I said, “but the team usually does lunch together on Thursdays. Would you like to join us?”

“That would be wonderful! In Germany, we say ‘Lunch makes half the work.’”

I laughed. “We say something similar here… ‘Time flies when you’re having lunch!’”

“That’s terrible!” She giggled. “I love it.”

At lunch, Elsa had everyone in stitches with her stories. Her sense of humor matched mine perfectly — dry, slightly dark, with perfect timing. It was uncanny.

A delighted woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

A delighted woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

“You know,” Mark from accounting said, “you two could be related. Same weird jokes.”

I laughed it off. “She’s young enough to be my daughter. Besides, my wife and I never had children.”

The words tasted bitter in my mouth. Emily and I had wanted children so badly.

Over the next few months, Elsa proved herself invaluable at work. She had my eye for detail and determination. Sometimes, watching her work reminded me so much of my late wife that my chest would tighten.

A woman in an office | Source: Midjourney

A woman in an office | Source: Midjourney

“Abraham?” Elsa knocked on my office door one afternoon. “My mother’s visiting from Germany next week. Would you like to join us for dinner? She’s dying to meet my new American family. I mean, my boss!”

I smiled at her choice of words. “I’d be honored.”

The restaurant the following weekend was quiet and elegant. Elsa’s mother, Elke, was studying me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. When Elsa excused herself to the restroom, Elke’s hand shot out, gripping my shoulder with surprising strength.

“Don’t you dare look at my daughter that way,” she hissed.

A furious senior woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

A furious senior woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

I jerked back. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I know everything about you, Abraham. Everything.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Let me tell you a story,” she interrupted, her voice dropping to a whisper. Her eyes held mine, and suddenly I couldn’t look away. “A story about love, betrayal, and second chances.”

Elke leaned forward, her fingers wrapped around her wine glass. “Once, there was a woman who loved her husband more than life itself. They were young, passionate, and full of dreams.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with—”

An anxious man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

An anxious man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Listen,” she commanded softly. “This woman wanted to give her husband something special. You see, there was an old friend… someone who’d had a falling out with her husband years ago. She thought, ‘What better gift than to heal old wounds?’

My heart began to pound as Elke continued.

“She reached out to this friend, Patrick. Remember that name, Abraham? They met in secret, planning a surprise reconciliation for her husband’s birthday.”

The room seemed to spin. “How do you know about Patrick?”

A man gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

A man gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney

She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Then, just before the birthday celebration, she discovered something wonderful. She was pregnant. For a brief moment, everything was perfect. A baby, a reconciled friendship, a complete family… Just perfect.”

Her voice cracked. “But then came the photographs. Her husband’s sister, always so protective and jealous, brought them to him. Pictures of his wife walking with Patrick, talking, laughing, their secret meetings at the park. Everything. And instead of asking, instead of trusting the woman he claimed to love, he just—”

“Stop!” I whispered.

A shocked man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

“He threw her out,” Elke continued. “Wouldn’t take her calls. Wouldn’t let her explain that she’d been planning his birthday surprise, that Patrick had agreed to come to the party, to make peace after all these years.”

Tears were running down her face now. “She tried to end it all. She wanted to just run away somewhere where nobody knew her. But her employer found her and got her help. Arranged for her to leave the country and start fresh. But the plane—”

“The plane crashed,” I finished, my voice hollow.

An airplane | Source: Unsplash

An airplane | Source: Unsplash

“Yes. The plane crashed. She was found with another passenger’s ID — a woman named Elke who hadn’t survived. Her face was unrecognizable. Required multiple surgeries to reconstruct. And all the while, she carried a child. Your child, Abraham.”

“EMILY?” The name came out as a broken whisper. “You’re ali—”

“ALIVE!” She nodded slowly, and I saw it then. Those eyes… beneath the different face, the changed features. Those same eyes I’d fallen in love with 25 years ago.

“And Elsa?”

A smiling senior woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A smiling senior woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Is your daughter.” She took a shaky breath. “When she told me about her wonderful new boss in Chicago and showed me your picture, I knew I had to come. I was afraid…”

“Afraid of what?”

“That history might repeat itself. That you might fall for her, not knowing who she was. The universe has a cruel sense of humor sometimes.”

I sat back, stunned. “All these months… the similar sense of humor, the familiar gestures. Jesus Christ! I was working alongside my own daughter?”

An emotional man | Source: Midjourney

An emotional man | Source: Midjourney

“She has so much of you in her,” Emily said softly. “Your determination, your creativity. Even that terrible pun habit of yours.”

Elsa returned to find us both silent, tears streaming down my face. Emily took her hand.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk outside. There’s something you need to know. Come with me.”

They were gone for what felt like hours. I sat there, memories flooding back — Emily’s smile the day we met, our first dance, and the last terrible fight. Memories crashed over me like a boulder, and my head started to ache.

A stunned man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A stunned man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

When they returned, Elsa’s face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed. She stood there, staring at me like she was seeing a ghost.

“DAD?”

I nodded, unable to speak. She crossed the distance between us in three steps and threw her arms around my neck. I held her tight, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling 23 years of loss and love crash over me at once.

“I always wondered,” she whispered against my shoulder. “Mom never talked about you, but I always felt like something was missing.”

A young woman in a bustling restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A young woman in a bustling restaurant | Source: Midjourney

The weeks that followed were a blur of long conversations, shared memories, and tentative steps forward. Emily and I met for coffee, trying to bridge the gulf of years between us.

“I don’t expect things to go back to how they were,” she said one afternoon, watching Elsa through the café window as she parked her car. “Too much time has passed. But maybe we can build something new… for her sake.”

I watched my daughter — God, my daughter — walk toward us, her smile brightening the room. “I was so wrong, Emily. About everything,” I turned to my wife.

An emotional man looking outside | Source: Midjourney

An emotional man looking outside | Source: Midjourney

“We both made mistakes,” she said softly. “But look what we made first.” She nodded toward Elsa, who was now arguing playfully with the barista about the proper way to make a cappuccino.

One evening, as we sat in my backyard watching the sunset, Emily finally told me about the crash. Her voice trembled as she recounted those terrifying moments.

“The plane went down over the lake,” she said, her fingers tightening around her tea cup. “I was one of 12 survivors. When they pulled me from the water, I was barely conscious, clutching a woman named Elke’s passport. We’d been seated together, talking about our pregnancies. She was pregnant too. But she didn’t make it.”

A sad woman with her eyes closed | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman with her eyes closed | Source: Midjourney

Emily’s eyes grew distant. “The doctors said it was a miracle both the baby and I survived. Third-degree burns covered most of my face and upper body. During the months of reconstructive surgery, I kept thinking about you, about how fate had given me a new face and a new chance. But I was scared, Abraham. Scared you wouldn’t believe me. Scared you’d reject us again.”

“I would have known you,” I whispered. “Somehow, I would have known.”

She smiled sadly. “Would you? You worked with our daughter for months without recognizing her.”

A senior woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

The truth of her words stabbed me. I thought about all the little moments over the years: the dreams where Emily was trying to tell me something, the strange sense of familiarity when I met Elsa, and the way my heart seemed to recognize what my mind couldn’t grasp.

“When I was strong enough,” Emily continued, “Elke’s family in Munich took me in. They’d lost their daughter, and I’d lost everything. We helped each other heal. They became Elsa’s family too. They knew my story and kept my secret. It wasn’t just my choice to make anymore.”

Grayscale shot of a woman holding a baby girl | Source: Unsplash

Grayscale shot of a woman holding a baby girl | Source: Unsplash

I left that conversation with a new understanding of the woman I’d thought I knew.

And while our relationship would never be perfect, I knew that sometimes the truth about people isn’t as clear as we think. Sometimes it takes 23 years, a twist of fate, and a daughter’s laugh to help us see what was there all along.

Finally, I understood something: Love isn’t about perfect endings.It’s about second chances and finding the courage to rebuild from the ashes of what was lost. And sometimes, if you’re very lucky, those ashes give birth to something even more beautiful than what came before.

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling | 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.

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