For weeks, I stayed up late, watching camera footage and setting traps, determined to catch the person stealing from my small grocery store. But nothing could have prepared me for what I found when I finally caught them—a truth that had been hidden from me for long years.
At my age, most people were thinking about retirement, buying a little house in Florida, or taking long vacations. But not me.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I was thinking about how to make my store better. When you owned a business, especially a small grocery store like mine, there was no such thing as rest. I had run this store for many years.
Over time, new shops had opened nearby, and competition had grown, but I never gave up.
I worked hard to make my store more than just a place to buy food. I wanted people to feel welcome, like they were visiting an old friend.
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Some of my customers had been coming for twenty or even thirty years. I watched them grow up, fall in love, and start families.
Then their kids started coming in—and that meant the world to me. It meant I had done something right.
But recently, something felt off. I started noticing little things missing from the shelves.
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Not just one or two items, but enough to make me wonder. I stocked everything myself, so I knew what was there. Something was definitely wrong.
Mr. Green came up to the register with a small basket in his hand. He gave me a friendly smile. “How are you doing today, Margaret?” he asked.
“I’m doing fine, thank you. How about you?” I said with a smile.
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“I’m good,” he said. “But I noticed something. There’s not much dairy on the shelves. You usually have the best selection in town.”
I looked at him, surprised. “That can’t be right. I filled the whole section just yesterday. Every last shelf.”
He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Maybe you missed something. Or maybe it’s time to slow down. You ever think about handing the store over to someone else? Do you have kids?”
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His words hit me hard. I froze for a moment, then looked straight at him. I didn’t smile this time. “Goodbye, Mr. Green,” I said firmly. I bagged his items and handed them to him without another word.
As if! I still had plenty of strength. Mr. Green acted like I was ready for a rocking chair and soft food. I was not even sixty yet!
I worked hard every day, lifting boxes, sweeping floors, and dealing with customers. But his words touched a spot deep inside me. A place I tried to keep buried.
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Children.
I had a daughter once. Just one. She ran away from home fifteen years ago. No phone call. No goodbye. Just a note.
She said she was leaving to start a new life. I searched for her everywhere. I called the police, but they said she left on her own, so it was not their job.
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That made me so angry. She was my child. She was still so young. How could they not help?
I shook my head and forced myself back to the present. I walked to the dairy fridge. It was still early, and hardly anyone had come in yet.
But I saw the truth with my own eyes—many items were missing. Yogurt, milk, cheese—whole rows gone.
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It was not just forgetfulness or bad math. Someone was stealing from me.
I always trusted people. That was why I never installed cameras. I believed people were good. I believed they would do the right thing. But now, I had no choice.
The next day, I had cameras installed. It cost me a good bit, but I had to protect my store. The day after that, I sat at the back counter and watched the footage.
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At first, it looked normal. The store was dark and still. But then, a figure appeared. They moved quickly and quietly, taking things off the shelves.
They wore a hood pulled low over their face. I clicked through the video, hoping to see a face, but I never did. Somehow, they stayed hidden.
Still, I knew I had to do something. I put the footage on a flash drive and drove to the police station.
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I walked up to the front desk and told the officer on duty what had happened.
He led me to a small room and plugged in the footage. He watched the screen with a bored look on his face.
“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “what do you want from us?”
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I stared at him. “What do I want? I want you to do your job. Someone is breaking into my store and stealing my products. I want you to find out who it is.”
He pointed at the screen. “You can’t even see their face. They’re wearing a hood the whole time. We don’t have anything to go on.”
I felt my hands tighten. “But that’s your job!”
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“My advice? Get an alarm system,” the officer said.
I scoffed, grabbed the footage, and walked out of the station. As if! Giving me advice like I was some lost old lady.
But still, I went ahead and had the alarm system installed. I did not want to take any more chances.
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For a few days, things seemed better. Nothing went missing. The shelves stayed full. I started to breathe easier.
Then, one morning, I walked in and froze. Again, shelves were empty. Not everything, but enough to notice. Yet the alarm had not gone off. My stomach turned.
As I stood by the fridge, Mr. Green walked by with a little shake of his head. “Your selection keeps getting smaller and smaller,” he said. “Maybe my wife and I should start going to another store.”
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Those words stung. My heart pounded. I could not lose customers. This store was my life. It paid my bills and kept a roof over my head.
If I could not stop this thief, I could lose everything. If no one would help me, then I would help myself.
That night, I closed the shop like always, turned off the lights, and walked out the front door.
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But I did not go home. I circled around to the back, unlocked the rear door, and slipped inside. I crouched behind the counter and waited.
It was quiet. Too quiet. I almost dozed off, but then I heard it—the door creaked, and the alarm beeped off.
My heart jumped. I peeked up and saw the same figure moving around the aisles.
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Small, quick, quiet. I crept forward. Step by step. Then I lunged and grabbed the hoodie.
“Got you!” I yelled.
The person dropped everything and struggled. I pulled back the hood. He was just a boy. Fourteen, maybe. Thin. Scared. His eyes locked with mine.
He had her eyes.
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“Who are you? Why are you stealing from me?” I asked.
He did not answer. He pulled down the zipper, slipped out of the hoodie, and ran. I tried to follow but could not. I stood there, breathing hard, holding the hoodie in my hands.
Those eyes. I knew them. They belonged to my daughter. How was that possible? Could he be…?
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After I caught the boy red-handed, the thefts stopped completely, but I could not stop thinking about him.
Every time I looked at the shelves or walked through the store, my mind went back to that night. I kept seeing his face, those eyes that reminded me so much of my daughter.
I felt torn. He was just a child, and part of me wanted to go to the police, but the other part needed to know who he was and why he looked so familiar.
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One evening, as I was driving home from work, I saw a figure in a hoodie coming out of a closed store.
My heart skipped a beat. Was it him? I watched as he walked over to a bicycle, took some groceries out of his hoodie, and put them into a backpack.
He kept his hood up the whole time. I stayed in my car and decided to follow him. I knew if I tried to talk to him, he would run again.
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I kept a safe distance as he rode through the streets. After a while, he stopped near a small but tidy house.
He parked his bicycle behind it and went inside. I sat for a moment, holding the same hoodie he had left behind in my store.
My hands were shaking as I got out of the car and walked to the front door. I knocked softly. No one came. I waited. I was about to leave when I heard footsteps approaching.
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Then the door opened.
And there she was—my daughter. I froze. She looked older, tired maybe, but it was her. My heart almost stopped.
She was no longer the girl who had run away from me. She was a grown woman now, standing in the doorway, staring at me in shock.
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“Alice…” I whispered, my voice barely coming out. My hands were still shaking.
She blinked like she was seeing a ghost. “Mom? What are you doing here?”
I looked into her eyes. They were the same, even after all these years. “So you were nearby all this time, and I couldn’t find you.”
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She looked down. “Not the whole time. I moved around a lot. That’s not important now. Why are you here? How did you find me?”
I didn’t answer right away. I reached into my bag and held up the boy’s hoodie.
Her eyes widened. “Where did you get Travis’s hoodie?”
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Before I could speak, the boy—the same one who stole from my store—appeared in the hallway.
“Mom! Close the door!” he shouted, his voice full of fear.
Alice turned to him. “What? What’s going on?”
I stepped forward. “Travis was stealing from my store.”
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“WHAT?!” she shouted. Her face turned red with shock.
“Please don’t call the police,” Travis said, his voice shaking. “I promise I won’t steal from your store again.”
“I know,” I said softly. “But I saw you today. You were stealing from another store.”
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Alice turned to him, her voice sharp. “Travis, what is this? Why would you steal?”
He looked down at the floor. “Because you work so much. We never have enough money. I wanted to help.”
“So you thought stealing was the answer?” she shouted.
“I sold the stuff. I gave you the money in secret. I thought I was helping,” he said.
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Alice covered her face with her hands. “That is not how we solve problems. Stealing is wrong, Travis. Always.”
She looked at me. Her voice was quieter now. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll handle it. He won’t do it again. Please don’t turn him in to the police.”
She reached for the door, but I held it.
“That’s it?” I asked. “I haven’t seen you in fifteen years, and you have nothing more to say? Who is Travis? Is he your son?”
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Alice nodded. Tears filled her eyes. “Yes. He’s my son.”
“May I come in?” I asked, almost in a whisper.
She paused. Then she stepped aside and let me in.
She led me to a small kitchen. I sat down and looked around. It was neat but worn.
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“If you were having money problems, why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you ask for help?” I asked.
“Because I was ashamed,” she said.
“I searched for you. I waited fifteen years. I didn’t know you even had a child,” I said.
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“I was already pregnant when I left. That was one of the reasons. You told me to stay away from Travis’s father. You were right. He was no good. But I didn’t listen. He left me soon after,” Alice said.
“Then why didn’t you come home?”
“Because I was ashamed. I thought you hated me.”
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“Oh, Alice,” I said, standing and walking to her. “You’re my daughter. How could I ever hate you?”
I gently wrapped my arms around her, and she held me just as tight. We both cried without saying a word.
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All the pain from the past seemed to melt in that moment. It felt like coming home after being lost for years.
After we calmed down, Alice turned to Travis and scolded him firmly. She made it clear that stealing was never the answer. He nodded, ashamed.
Still, I looked at him with something close to gratitude. I kept thanking him in my heart. If he had not taken from me, I would never have found my family again.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Feeling unappreciated and exhausted, I decided to take a break from my marriage and clear my head. But when my car broke down miles from home, I found myself stranded at a small motel. What started as a simple getaway soon led to an unexpected reunion — one that changed everything. Read the full story here.
I Accidentally Answered My Husband’s Work Call — The Voice on the Other End Exposed His Double Life
When Julianne answers her husband’s phone, the furious voice on the other end reveals a devastating secret: her husband has been living a double life. Now, she’ll have to act fast to protect herself and her son from the fallout of her husband’s deceit.
If you’d asked me that morning if I was happy, I would’ve said yes. Maybe not convincingly, but I would’ve said it. That was before the call.
A silhouette of a woman | Source: Midjourney
I spent my days juggling the roles of wife, mother, and school volunteer. My husband, Raymond, was the breadwinner, a mid-level manager who came home late too often these days, citing work stress.
My eight-year-old son, Ethan, was my anchor, and the reason I kept pushing through even when Raymond’s distant eyes gnawed at me.
But I didn’t have time to dwell. Life kept moving, and I was good at keeping up.
Close up of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
I’d already seen Ethan off to school on the bus and was leaning in to kiss Ray goodbye when he whirled away from me and grabbed his briefcase.
“I’ve got to rush. Today’s going to be crazy and Mr. Richards must be waiting for me already,” he muttered as he rushed out the door.
I didn’t even notice he’d left his phone on the kitchen table. When it started ringing a few minutes after he left, I answered automatically, thinking it was mine.
A cell phone | Source: Midjourney
“Raymond,” snapped a woman’s voice, sharp and angry. “I warned you! If you don’t get rid of her, I’ll tell everyone I’m pregnant with your child.”
My throat closed up. I knew that voice… it was Vera, my sister!
“I’m done waiting, Ray. This is your last warning. Tell her today, or else!”
Before I could scream or demand answers, the line went dead.
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I stood there, frozen, the phone clutched so tightly in my hand that my knuckles turned white. Vera had always been the storm to my calm. Beautiful, reckless, and magnetic, she flitted through life, bringing chaos and charm in equal measure.
And now she was pregnant with my husband’s child. They’d been cheating on me… for how long?
A strange, detached instinct kicked in, like my body was operating on autopilot. My thumb hovered over the screen before I unlocked Raymond’s phone, the password I’d seen him type a thousand times burning in my mind.
A woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
My fingers trembled as I scrolled through the messages. And there were dozens of texts, a thread of secrets I was never supposed to uncover.
Vera’s words were insistent, pleading: When are you going to tell her? I can’t keep doing this, Ray. She’s clueless.
Then Raymond’s careful, measured replies: I just need more time. I want to do this right. We can’t risk her finding out — it’ll ruin everything.
The bile rose in my throat as I pieced it together. They had a plan, and it was cold, and calculated.
A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney
They’d leave their marriages in such a way that nobody would suspect their affair. Vera was ready to leave Jack, and Raymond had been weighing how to drop me quietly and cleanly, ensuring his finances remained untouched.
She won’t get a penny, one of his messages read. I’ll make sure of it.
My knees buckled, and I slid to the kitchen floor.
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The phone slipped from my grasp and clattered onto the tiles, but I didn’t care. I sat there, shaking, the weight of betrayal pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket.
Vera’s voice replayed in my head, layered over Raymond’s careful lies. The two people I trusted most in the world had conspired against me, trading whispers behind my back while I set the table for family dinners and kissed Raymond goodnight.
The betrayal didn’t just sting; it consumed me, a fiery, unrelenting ache that made my vision blur.
An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
I pressed my hands to my face, trying to block it all out. But it was burned into my mind now. My husband and my sister were plotting my destruction.
For the first time in my life, I felt entirely untethered. But I wasn’t going to let them destroy my life. And I wouldn’t let Ethan suffer for their selfishness.
Anger fueled me, sharpening my focus as I grabbed my keys and headed straight for Vera’s husband’s office.
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Jack was the kind of man who could turn chaos into order. He was everything Vera wasn’t: level-headed, meticulous, and about as far from impulsive as a person could get. If anyone could help me, it was Jack.
The office building was quiet. Jack’s secretary wasn’t even there yet; her desk sat empty as I marched past it, my sneakers squeaking against the polished floors.
My heart pounded in my chest as I reached his door and knocked harder than I intended.
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“Come in,” Jack called, his deep, calm voice carrying through the door.
I stepped inside, and he looked up from his desk, his brow knitting in confusion when he saw me.
“Julianne?” He stood, concern flashing in his sharp, gray eyes. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
I didn’t bother with pleasantries. My hands trembled as I crossed the room and set Raymond’s phone on his desk.
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“I have something important to tell you, Jack. It’s about Vera and…” I faltered, my voice catching. “You’ll need to see it for yourself.”
He gestured for me to sit, but I stayed standing. His gaze didn’t leave me as he picked up the phone and scrolled through the messages. With each swipe, his face darkened. His jaw tightened, and his grip on the phone grew rigid.
“Goddammit, Vera,” he muttered under his breath, his calm veneer cracking.
A stressed man | Source: Midjourney
He set the phone down with more force than necessary and pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. I thought he might explode, but instead, he grabbed a notepad from his desk and flipped it open. His movements were precise and deliberate.
“We need a plan,” he said, his tone clipped and businesslike.
I blinked at him, startled by his composure. “You’re not… shocked? Hurt?”
“No, I’m furious,” he said, meeting my eyes.
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His voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge beneath it. “Vera’s always been mercurial, but this time she’s gone too far.”
He tapped his pen against the notepad, his jaw set. “I’m filing for divorce. And I’m going to help you do the same. With evidence like this, they don’t stand a chance.”
I sank into the chair across from him, my earlier fury replaced by something steadier.
“Jack,” I said, my voice soft. “Thank you.”
A grateful woman | Source: Midjourney
His lips pressed into a thin line as he began scribbling notes. “Don’t thank me yet. This is going to be messy. But they’ve left us no choice. We’ll have to move fast, even if it means I have to pull some strings. This is what we’re going to do…”
Jack continued taking notes as he outlined his plan. My resolve solidified as I took it all in. I was a little awed by how quickly he calculated each step, but mostly, I was relieved.
I wasn’t alone in this fight. Jack and I would make sure Vera and Raymond paid for their betrayal, and that neither of us would be left picking up the pieces alone.
A lawyer in his office | Source: Midjourney
That evening, Vera and Jack joined Raymond and me for dinner. I’d texted Vera the invite the minute I got home. I’d then called Ray’s office to tell him he’d left his phone at home.
“Oh my God,” he muttered, a hint of panic in his voice. “Just… switch it off and put it in my nightstand drawer, okay?”
“Sure, honey,” I replied. “By the way, Jack and Vera will be joining us for dinner tonight. Could you pick up a bottle of wine on the way home?”
A woman speaking on her cell phone | Source: Midjourney
Next, I arranged for Ethan to sleep over at a friend’s house. By the time we sat down to dinner that evening, all the pieces of Jack’s plan were in place.
I poured a large glass of wine and set it down in front of Vera.
“Oh, no wine for me, Jules.” She pointedly stared at Raymond. “I’ve been feeling a little under the weather lately.”
“I guess that makes sense,” I replied. “The first trimester is rough and pregnant women aren’t supposed to drink, are they?”
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Vera’s fork clattered against her plate, and Raymond’s hand tightened on the edge of the table.
“Oh, don’t act surprised,” I said. “I know about the affair, the baby, and your little plans to leave me with nothing.”
Jack, who had been waiting for his cue, produced two folders and rose from his seat.
“These are your divorce papers,” he said, slapping one folder down in front of Vera before placing the other in front of Ray. “And these are yours.”
Divorce papers | Source: Pexels
Raymond turned to me, panic flooding his eyes. “Julianne, please…”
“You don’t get to talk!” I snapped, my voice trembling with rage. “You’ve destroyed everything, and for what? Her?”
Raymond looked at Vera, who was openly crying now, then back at me. He didn’t answer. He just stared at the table, defeated.
An emotional man | Source: Midjourney
In the weeks that followed, Jack and I worked like a team. He was relentless in court, helping me secure a settlement that ensured Ethan and I would be fine.
Raymond lost his assets, his reputation, and whatever shred of decency he thought he had left. Jack filed for full custody of his children, and Vera was left scrambling.
The scandal tore through our small town. Everyone knew what had happened, and neither Raymond nor Vera could walk into the grocery store without whispers trailing them.
People in a grocery store | Source: Pexels
One evening, as I watched Ethan play in the yard, I felt a strange sense of peace. My life wasn’t what I thought it was. It was messy, complicated, and painful. But it was mine, and I was free to shape it into something new.
Here’s another story: Mia’s thrilled when her unruly son, Jack, returns from a weekend at Grandma’s house as a model of discipline, but his strange transformation leaves her uneasy. Determined to uncover what happened, Mia’s questions lead her to a dangerous revelation.
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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