Lisa’s son, Mike, wouldn’t stop talking about his new friend, Sophie. Every day after school, all she heard was Sophie this, Sophie that. Lisa was happy Mike had made a friend so quickly after they moved to the new town. But she was also curious. She wanted to meet Sophie’s mom and connect with other parents. So, when Mike asked if Sophie could come over one day, Lisa agreed.
The day finally came. Lisa drove slowly toward the school to pick up Mike. As she glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw Mike staring out of the window quietly. The silence between them felt heavy, filled with memories of their recent struggles. Moving to this town was supposed to be a fresh start, but everything still felt strange and unfamiliar. New streets, new people—it all made Lisa feel like an outsider.
Lisa hoped that moving to a new town would help her and her son, Mike, heal after his father’s death. But she worried about Mike. He had been so quiet and distant since the loss. She wondered if he would make new friends or feel comfortable in this unfamiliar place.
As Mike got out of the car for school, Lisa called out, “Have a good day, sweetie! Be brave!”
Later that day, when she picked him up, Mike’s eyes were shining, and he practically bounced to the car. “Mom! I made a new friend! Her name is Sophie!”
Lisa felt a wave of relief. Maybe this move would be good for both of them. From that day on, Sophie was all Mike talked about.
One afternoon, Lisa picked Mike up again. He ran to her with a big grin and hugged her tightly.
“Hey, buddy! You seem happy,” Lisa said as they walked to the car.
“Yeah! It was awesome!” Mike replied, beaming.
“Really? What happened?” Lisa asked.
“Sophie invited me to her house to play tomorrow!” Mike said, excitedly.
“Oh? When?” Lisa asked, glancing at him as she started the car.
“Tomorrow!” Mike replied, bouncing in his seat.
Lisa smiled. “I’ll need to talk to her mom first to make sure it’s okay,” she said.
Mike rummaged through his bag and handed her a crumpled piece of paper. “Here, Sophie gave me her mom’s number.”
Later, at home, Lisa texted the number. “Hi, I’m Lisa, Mike’s mom. He said Sophie invited him over tomorrow. Is that okay?”
A few minutes later, a reply came: “Yes, Sophie already told me. We’d love to have him over.”
Lisa felt relieved. She wanted everything to go smoothly. She texted back, “That’s great! Is there anything I should bring?”
The response came quickly: “Maybe some wine, so we moms don’t get bored!”
Lisa laughed. It seemed like Sophie’s mom had a sense of humor. She replied, “Sounds good! See you tomorrow.”
The next day, Lisa and Mike walked up to Sophie’s house. Lisa held a bottle of wine and smiled at Mike, who knocked on the door excitedly. Sophie opened it, and the two kids ran off laughing.
Lisa stood at the door, waiting. A moment later, Sophie’s mom appeared—and Lisa’s heart sank. Standing before her was Alice, her enemy from high school.
Alice’s smile was cold. “Lisa,” she said.
“Alice,” Lisa replied, her stomach dropping.
Alice crossed her arms. “You haven’t changed,” she sneered.
Lisa shot back, “And you’re still showing off in short skirts.”
The tension between them was thick as Lisa stepped inside, clutching the bottle of wine. They sat down, but barely exchanged any words. The memories of high school rushed back—Alice had always been the popular girl who humiliated Lisa. The worst memory was prom night when Alice had stolen Lisa’s date.
The bitterness lingered, and Lisa avoided Alice after that, even though Mike and Sophie stayed friends. But one day, Lisa got a call from the school. Mike had been accused of bullying Sophie. Lisa couldn’t believe it. When she arrived at the school, she saw Alice sitting there.
“What’s going on?” Lisa asked.
“Mike has been bullying Sophie,” the teacher said.
“That’s impossible!” Lisa replied, shocked.
Alice sighed dramatically. “Sophie’s told me about it several times. I had to involve the teacher.”
Lisa was furious. “Why am I only hearing this now?”
Alice’s sneer returned. “Maybe you’re not paying enough attention to your son.”
Lisa’s anger flared. “How dare you? Don’t speak about my child like that!”
The teacher tried to calm things down, but the tension was high. By the end of the meeting, Lisa stormed out, furious. She couldn’t believe Alice was causing problems again, just like in high school.
A few days later, Lisa was surprised by a knock at her door. Alice stood there, looking different.
“What do you want now?” Lisa asked, crossing her arms.
“I came to apologize,” Alice said quietly.
Lisa was shocked. “Really?”
Alice nodded. “Sophie misses Mike. I hate seeing her so upset. I lied, Lisa. Mike wasn’t bullying her.”
Lisa was stunned. “Why would you lie?”
Alice sighed. “I was jealous of you. I always have been. Even in high school.”
Lisa couldn’t believe it. “Jealous of me?”
Alice explained, “At least you had a husband who loved you. I married Scott, the guy I took from you, but he wasn’t a good man. Sophie and I left him two years ago.”
Lisa raised an eyebrow. “So, I should thank you for stealing him?”
Alice laughed sadly. “You were always better than me, Lisa. I couldn’t handle it.”
There was a long pause. Then Alice asked, “Can you forgive me?”
Lisa looked at her for a moment, then said, “Come inside. Let’s have some wine and talk.”
As Alice stepped in, she hugged Lisa, and for the first time, Lisa felt the years of anger begin to fade. They both had their struggles, but maybe now they could finally understand each other.
Disguised as a Cleaner, a Journalist Faces the Unexpected When a Millionaire Recognizes Her Pendant – Story of the Day
Laura believed that her writing could change the world. But reality turned out differently, and her boss pushed her to dig up dirt on famous people. Desperate to save her job, she disguises herself as a cleaner to get compromising details on a millionaire. However, she uncovers a life-changing truth in the process.
The office hummed with the familiar sounds of keyboards clicking, phones ringing, and the occasional burst of laughter from a distant corner.
Laura sat at her desk, papers scattered around her, but her focus was elsewhere.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Reggie, the editor-in-chief, stepped out of his office.
His eyes scanned the room until they landed on her. He looked tired—more tired than usual—and his face carried the weight of disappointment.
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“Laura… come to my office for a minute,” he said. His tone was calm but firm. He held the door open, waiting for her to follow.
Taking a deep breath, Laura rose from her chair and walked toward Reggie’s office, each step feeling heavier than the last.
“Sit down,” Reggie said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk.
“Reggie, I was just about to tell you about a new article I’m working on,” she began, trying to sound upbeat. “It’s about the chemical pollution in a nearby lake—”
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“That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss with you,” Reggie cut in, sighing as he sank into his chair. He folded his hands and looked directly at her.
“Laura, pollution in forests, lakes, the extinction of… what are they called again?”
“California condors,” Laura said, her tone sharp.
“Condors, yes.” He nodded.
“People don’t care about this stuff, Laura. They don’t read it. And it’s not just my opinion—the data backs it up.”
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Laura’s brow furrowed. “But people should care, Reggie! This isn’t just about nature; it affects our health, our communities—everything!”
Reggie leaned forward, his voice hardening.
“It doesn’t bring in money. We all need to eat. Salaries need to be paid, and I can’t pay someone who isn’t generating revenue.”
Reggie softened his tone, removing his glasses and rubbing his temples.
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“I like you, Laura. You’re talented, and you care about your work. That’s why I’m trying to help you.”
“How?”
Reggie slid a photograph across the desk. It showed an elderly man with a stern expression.
“This is Mr. Weiss,” Reggie said. “You know who he is, don’t you?”
“A wealthy man,” Laura murmured, studying the image.
“The wealthiest man in the city,” Reggie corrected.
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“Rumor has it he’s been spending tens of thousands on private investigators. Years of it.”
“And?” Laura asked, confused. “It’s his money. Why does that matter?”
“Why would an old man need private investigators?” Reggie leaned back, a sly smile forming.
“Mistresses, scandals, maybe even crimes. Find anything—and I mean anything—about his expenditures, and spin it into a story. This could be the article that saves your career.”
Laura hesitated. “And if I can’t?”
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Reggie’s smile faded. “Then I’d recommend you start looking for another job.”
The cold air nipped at Laura’s cheeks as she stood in front of the grand estate, its towering gates and sprawling lawn exuding wealth and history.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and rang the doorbell.
The heavy wooden door creaked open slowly, revealing an elderly man. His figure was slightly hunched, his face marked by deep lines of exhaustion.
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Dark circles framed his eyes, and his scruffy beard looked like it hadn’t been groomed in days.
“Good morning, Mr. Weiss,” Laura said with a polite smile that she hoped masked her nerves.
“My name is Laura. We spoke on the phone about the cleaning position.”
“Good morning,” Mr. Weiss replied, his voice quiet and tinged with weariness. “Come in. Forgive the mess; there’s plenty of work to keep you busy.”
Laura stepped inside, her eyes widening as she took in the space.
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A thick layer of dust covered the once-pristine surfaces, cobwebs adorned the corners, and books and papers were scattered haphazardly across the rooms.
“As you can see,” Mr. Weiss continued, “I really need the help. Start wherever you’d like. I’ll be in my study.”
With that, he turned and shuffled away, closing the study door behind him.
“Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Weiss,” Laura called after him, but he didn’t respond.
Through the brief crack before the door shut, Laura glimpsed his desk. It was cluttered with papers, photographs, and what looked like old receipts.
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Her heart raced—this could be where the secrets were buried.
Laura spent the next hour cleaning the house, her movements mechanical as her mind churned with plans.
Finally, she approached the study door and knocked softly. “Mr. Weiss, I’m coming in to clean—”
“No!” His voice was startlingly sharp as the door opened just enough for him to peer out.
“The study doesn’t need cleaning. Thank you for your work today. If you’ve finished the other rooms, you’re free to leave.”
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“There are still a couple of rooms left,” Laura replied, feigning disappointment, but her mind was already racing.
The study was off-limits, and she was more determined than ever to find out why.
Laura crouched near the sofa, her heart racing.
She glanced toward the study door, still closed, as her mind raced through the plan one more time.
It wasn’t elegant, but it might work. Taking a deep breath, she screamed, her voice sharp and filled with faux terror.
“Aaaaah! Mr. Weiss! Help!”
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The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Moments later, Mr. Weiss appeared, his face a mask of alarm.
“What happened?” he demanded, clutching the edge of the doorway.
“There’s a rat!” Laura cried, pointing under the couch with a trembling hand. “It just ran under there! Please, I can’t stand rats—they terrify me!”
“A rat?” Mr. Weiss frowned, his brow furrowing.
“That’s impossible.” He grabbed a broom leaning against the wall and knelt to peer under the couch.
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“Where? I don’t see anything. Did it run out?” he asked, poking around with the broom handle.
“I… I don’t know!” Laura stammered, backing toward the hallway. “Just keep looking. I’ll hide in the kitchen!”
Mr. Weiss grumbled but continued his search, muttering to himself about how unlikely it was.
As soon as he was fully distracted, Laura moved quickly. She slipped into his study, closing the door as quietly as possible.
The room was dim, illuminated only by a small desk lamp. Papers were strewn across the desk—receipts, handwritten notes, and photographs.
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Laura’s journalist instincts kicked in as she pulled a small camera from her pocket and took pictures.
Her hands trembled as she worked quickly, her breath shallow.
Then she saw it. Among the scattered documents was a detailed sketch of a medallion.
She froze, her pulse hammering in her ears.
Reaching for her necklace, she pulled the small pendant from under her blouse and held it next to the sketch. They were identical.
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“Laura.”
The low, heavy voice sent a chill down her spine. She turned to see Mr. Weiss standing in the doorway, his face shadowed.
“I told you not to come in here,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of anger and pain.
Her hand instinctively clutched the pendant. Mr. Weiss’s eyes widened as he stepped closer, his gaze fixed on the pendant.
“Where did you get that pendant?” he asked, his voice trembling. He reached out, his hand shaking as he touched the necklace.
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“Tell me! Where?”
“It was my mother’s,” Laura snapped, pulling back.
“Your mother…” Mr. Weiss whispered, his face pale. “Was her name Dora?”
Laura’s breath caught. “Yes. How do you know that?”
Mr. Weiss’s knees buckled, and he sank to the floor. Tears welled in his eyes as his voice broke.
“Dora… my sweet Dora. She had a daughter…” He looked up at Laura, his expression filled with anguish. “Forgive me. Please forgive me.”
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Laura staggered back, her hand gripping the desk for support. “You knew my mother?”
“I’m your father,” Mr. Weiss said, his voice raw with emotion.
The words hit her like a blow. “You left her!” she cried, tears streaming down her face.
“You abandoned her—and me! She struggled every day because of you!”
“I know,” he said, his voice barely audible.
“I was a coward. I was afraid of responsibility, afraid of being a father. I’ve regretted it every day. I tried to find her, but she cut all ties. Tell me—where is she now?”
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“She’s gone,” Laura spat bitterly.
“She died ten years ago. She got sick, and it’s your fault. She fought so hard to survive, but she was alone because you weren’t there.”
Mr. Weiss crumpled, his body wracked with sobs.
“I never stopped looking. I never stopped loving her. I’m so sorry, Laura. I’m so sorry.”
Laura stared at him, her chest heaving with anger and pain. She shook her head, grabbing her bag.
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“I can’t do this,” she said, her voice trembling as she turned and fled the room.
The sound of his sobs followed her as she ran through the grand house and out into the cold night.
Later, Laura sat in the newsroom, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.
The photographs lay beside her, their edges curling slightly under the pressure of her hand.
On her screen, the half-written article glared back at her. This story would blow up—it would ruin Mr. Weiss’s name, tarnish his legacy, and save her job.
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But as she stared at the photos, her chest tightened. Anger and doubt battled in her mind.
Could she really destroy him after everything she had learned? He wasn’t just a stranger anymore. He was her father.
Summoning her courage, Laura stood and walked into Reggie’s office. Her breath felt heavier with each step.
“Reggie, can I come in?”
“Of course,” Reggie said, leaning forward with anticipation. “Please tell me you’ve got something good.”
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Laura placed a photograph on his desk. “The article is ready. I can send it over now.”
Reggie’s eyes gleamed as he examined the picture. “This is perfect, Laura! A millionaire’s dirty secrets—this is going to be huge!”
Laura’s hands trembled. Reggie’s words felt like nails on a chalkboard.
“No,” she said suddenly, grabbing the photo back. Without thinking, she ripped it into shreds and tossed them into the air.
“What are you doing?” Reggie roared, his face turning red.
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“I won’t ruin his life. If that’s what this job takes, I don’t want it,” Laura said, her voice steady.
“You’re fired!” he shouted.
Laura walked out, her head held high. She had lost her job, but she had found something far more valuable—her integrity.
And for the first time in years, she had a family worth fighting for.
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: “All men are liars.” With these words, Violet ended her radio program. Her life experiences and the countless stories she heard from her listeners had proven it. But, a date with a coworker made her question her belief. After a call from a stranger, she was convinced she had been right all along.
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.
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