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.

I Found a Phone Number and a Cryptic Note in My Husband’s Old Coat — What I Discovered Left Me Stunned

When I found a mysterious note in my husband’s old coat, its cryptic message sent my mind reeling. What followed was a journey of doubt, suspense, and a shocking revelation.

The house was alive with the sound of laughter. My son, Dylan, sat on the floor, lining up toy cars in a neat row, his little tongue sticking out in concentration. Next to him, his sister, Ella, twirled in her princess dress, spinning so fast that the hem of her skirt fluttered like a butterfly’s wings.

A girl in her princess dress | Source: Freepik

A girl in her princess dress | Source: Freepik

“Watch out, Dylan!” she giggled. “I’m a ballerina tornado!”

Dylan rolled his eyes but smiled. “Tornadoes don’t wear crowns, silly!”

From the kitchen, I smiled as I poured coffee into a mug. Their voices echoed, blending with the morning sunlight streaming through the windows.

Happy woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels

Happy woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels

Denton strode into the living room, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. His briefcase dangled in one hand, his usual confident stride making him look taller than usual. He bent down to kiss Ella on the head. “Don’t spin too much, sweetheart. We don’t want anyone getting dizzy.”

He turned to Dylan, tousling his hair. “Hold the fort while I’m gone, buddy.”

Dylan puffed out his chest. “I will, Dad!”

Father and son | Source: Pexels

Father and son | Source: Pexels

Denton glanced at me as he shrugged into his coat. “I tossed an old one in the donation pile last night. Be sure to check the pockets. I don’t want to accidentally lose anything important.”

“Got it,” I said, watching as he gave me a quick smile and headed for the door.

“Love you!” he called.

“Love you too,” I replied. The door clicked shut behind him.

A couple at home | Source: Pexels

A couple at home | Source: Pexels

Later, with the kids still playing, I turned to the donation pile. Denton’s old coat lay on top. As I picked it up, my fingers brushed against something in the inner pocket.

Frowning, I slipped my hand inside and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.

It felt important, like something I shouldn’t ignore. I opened it slowly.

The words sent a chill down my spine.

A shocked woman looking at a note | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman looking at a note | Source: Midjourney

“This is between us. No one else can know.”

My breath caught. I flipped the paper over.

“For service, call” and a phone number I didn’t recognize.

My heart thumped hard in my chest. My first instinct was denial. Denton wouldn’t hide something from me. Would he?

A suspicious woman | Source: Freepik

A suspicious woman | Source: Freepik

I folded the note back and shoved it into my pocket. The house suddenly felt too quiet.

That evening, I kept my hands busy while my thoughts ran wild. I cooked dinner, asked the kids about their day, and tried not to let my mind wander back to the note.

Denton walked in just before dinner, setting his briefcase on the counter. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Smells great in here,” he said, glancing at the bubbling pot on the stove.

A man arriving home | Source: Freepik

A man arriving home | Source: Freepik

I smiled tightly. “Thanks. It’ll be ready in a minute.”

At dinner, he laughed with the kids, teasing Ella about her spinning and asking Dylan how his car races went. He looked like the same Denton I’d known for years—kind, attentive, and completely at ease.

And yet, the note burned in my pocket.

A thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels

A thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels

That night, as we lay in bed, Denton turned off his side lamp and leaned over to kiss my forehead. “Goodnight, hon,” he murmured, his voice warm and familiar.

“Goodnight,” I whispered back, staring at the ceiling long after he’d fallen asleep.

The next morning, after Denton left for work, I sat at the kitchen table with my phone in hand. The note lay next to it, the words staring up at me like a dare.

A thoughtful woman with a phone | Source: Pexels

A thoughtful woman with a phone | Source: Pexels

Taking a deep breath, I dialed the number.

“Hello?” The voice was calm, feminine, and confident.

“Hi,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “I would like to book your… services.”

There was a pause on the other end. Then, the woman said, “If you have my number, you must know what to do. Be here at 2 p.m. tomorrow.” And she gave me the address right before hanging up.

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels

Before I could ask anything else, the line went dead.

I stared at my phone, my stomach churning. What did she mean? What was I supposed to do?

The next afternoon, I stepped out of the taxi, clutching my bag tightly. The seaside mansion loomed before me, its large windows gleaming in the sunlight. Waves crashed softly in the distance, a soothing backdrop to my rising nerves.

A seaside mansion | Source: Pexels

A seaside mansion | Source: Pexels

The front door opened before I could knock. A young woman, polished and poised, stood there. Her sleek black dress hugged her figure, and she wore a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You must be here for the appointment,” she said, her tone smooth but unreadable. “Come in.”

I hesitated but followed her inside.

A woman in a black dress | Source: Freepik

A woman in a black dress | Source: Freepik

The room she led me to was stunning, with elegant furniture, fresh flowers in crystal vases, and the faint scent of lavender in the air. I perched on the edge of an armchair, trying to look calm while my pulse raced.

The woman gestured to the seat opposite me. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Someone will be with you shortly.”

I nodded, my throat dry, as she stepped out of the room, leaving me alone.

A woman entering a lobby | Source: Pexels

A woman entering a lobby | Source: Pexels

The door creaked open, and the young woman returned. She moved with an effortless grace, her face a mask of polite professionalism.

I cleared my throat, determined to get answers. “What services do you provide?”

She raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. “If you’re here, you should already know.”

A confident woman in a black dress | Source: Pexels

A confident woman in a black dress | Source: Pexels

Her tone was calm, almost rehearsed, but it grated on my nerves. “I don’t know,” I said, my voice sharper now. “That’s why I’m asking.”

She tilted her head, as if considering me. “If you say so,” she murmured, her words cryptic.

My frustration bubbled over. I fumbled with my phone, pulled up a picture of Denton, and held it out to her. “This man. Has he been here?”

A woman holding a mobile phone | Source: Freepik

A woman holding a mobile phone | Source: Freepik

For a moment, her composure faltered. Her eyes flicked to the screen, and something unreadable crossed her face. Then, she smiled faintly. “You’ll find out soon enough,” she said.

“What does that mean?” I demanded, but she stepped back toward the door, ignoring my question. “Wait here,” she instructed before slipping out again.

The silence that followed was unbearable. My mind raced, imagining every worst-case scenario. Had Denton lied to me? Was this woman protecting some secret?

A nervous woman | Source: Freepik

A nervous woman | Source: Freepik

Suddenly, a burst of noise shattered the quiet. The door swung open, and a wave of people flooded in, their cheers echoing through the room.

Confetti rained down, and my heart jolted in confusion. I recognized faces—friends, family, even my kids and nephews. Dylan and Ella ran toward me, laughing and throwing handfuls of colorful paper in the air.

Kids playing in confetti | Source: Pexels

Kids playing in confetti | Source: Pexels

“Mama, surprise!” Ella squealed, jumping into my lap.

I looked around, bewildered, as Denton appeared in the doorway. He wore a sharp tuxedo and carried a bouquet of deep red roses. His grin was wide, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Denton?” I stammered, my voice barely audible over the commotion.

Happy shocked woman | Source: Freepik

Happy shocked woman | Source: Freepik

He walked over and knelt in front of me, holding out the roses. “Happy 10th anniversary, darling,” he said softly.

Behind him, a large banner unfurled. In bold letters, it read: “Happy 10th Anniversary!”

My breath caught as the realization hit me. This wasn’t betrayal. It was… a surprise.

Denton took my hand, helping me to my feet. “I bet you have a million questions,” he said, his tone playful.

Couple holding hands in the dark | Source: Pexels

Couple holding hands in the dark | Source: Pexels

“That’s an understatement,” I replied, my voice shaky but tinged with relief.

He chuckled, glancing at the young woman who now stood smiling near the door. “I knew you’d find that note and wouldn’t be able to resist following the clues.”

I blinked at him, still processing. “The note? The phone call? All of this?”

“It was all part of the plan,” he said, squeezing my hand. “This house—it’s like the place where we first met. Remember? That summer by the sea?”

A happy couple talking | Source: Freepik

A happy couple talking | Source: Freepik

My eyes widened as memories rushed back. The sandy beaches, the salty breeze, the way he’d made me laugh until my sides hurt. “I… I can’t believe you remembered,” I whispered.

“How could I forget?” he said, his voice soft. “I wanted to do something special. Something you’d never forget.”

The kids tugged at my arm, their excitement bubbling over.

Happy kids at a party | Source: Freepik

Happy kids at a party | Source: Freepik

“Mama, we were in on it too!” Dylan said proudly. “Dad said it was a secret game, and we had to wait here until you showed up!”

Ella nodded enthusiastically. “We got to throw confetti!”

I laughed, the tension in my chest finally breaking. “You two did a great job.”

Denton gestured toward the young woman. “And this is Rebecca. She works for a company that organizes parties like this one.”

A smiling woman in a black dress | Source: Freepik

A smiling woman in a black dress | Source: Freepik

Rebecca stepped forward, smiling. “Your husband has quite the imagination. I was happy to help.”

As the evening unfolded, Denton explained how he’d rented the mansion for the day and coordinated everything with our friends and family.

A happy couple talking over coffee | Source: Freepik

A happy couple talking over coffee | Source: Freepik

“I wanted to remind you of where it all began,” he said as we sat together, the kids playing nearby. “Life gets busy, and sometimes we forget to take a step back and appreciate what we’ve built.”

I felt a lump in my throat as I looked at him. “I can’t believe I doubted you,” I admitted. “I let my mind go to the worst places.”

A happy couple talking | Source: Freepik

A happy couple talking | Source: Freepik

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around me. “I wanted to keep it mysterious, but maybe I overdid it a little.”

“Just a little,” I teased, smiling through tears.

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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