Some puzzles are designed to trick your brain into thinking in ways that don’t quite align with logic. One such puzzle is the “Missing Dollar Riddle,” which has confused countless people over the years. At first glance, it appears that a dollar has mysteriously vanished, leaving everyone scratching their heads. But when you break it down logically, you’ll realize there’s no mystery at all!
Let’s dive into this brain teaser, analyze the common mistakes people make when solving it, and uncover the real solution behind the so-called missing dollar.
Can You Find the Missing Dollar?

Here’s how the puzzle goes:
- You see a shirt for $97.
- You borrow $50 from your mom and $50 from your dad, giving you $100 in total.
- You buy the shirt for $97, leaving you with $3 in change.
- You return $1 to your mom and $1 to your dad, and keep $1 for yourself.
- Now, you owe your parents $49 each, for a total debt of $98.
- But if you add the $1 you kept, you get $99.
Where did the other $1 go?
This riddle creates an illusion that $1 has gone missing, but let’s break it down logically and understand why this is a trick of wording rather than an actual mathematical problem.
Why Do People Get It Wrong?
Many people fall for this riddle because of a simple misdirection in arithmetic. The puzzle tricks your brain by making unrelated numbers appear connected, leading you to believe something is missing. Here are the main errors in thinking:
- Adding Instead of Accounting for Debt
- The mistake happens when you add the $1 you kept to the $98 debt, instead of realizing that the $98 already accounts for the $1.
- The real calculation should not involve adding your kept dollar to your remaining debt.
- Misleading Framing
- The wording makes it seem like you need to account for $100, when in reality, you only spent $97 and kept $3 in change.
- You already paid back $2 to your parents, so you are only left with the real debt of $98.
- Grouping Numbers Incorrectly
- The puzzle misleads people by presenting numbers in a way that suggests an imbalance.
- In reality, all the numbers add up correctly, but the way they are framed creates a false perception of a missing dollar.
Video : Stolen $100 Puzzle || $100 Puzzle Answers
Now, let’s solve the riddle correctly step by step.
Breaking Down the Puzzle Step by Step
Step 1: Understanding the Money Flow
- You borrowed $100.
- You spent $97 on the shirt.
- You got $3 in change.
Step 2: Paying Back Your Parents
- You returned $1 to mom and $1 to dad.
- That means you paid back a total of $2, leaving you with $98 of remaining debt.
- You kept $1 for yourself.
Step 3: Understanding the Real Math
- The $98 you owe includes the $97 for the shirt and the $1 you kept.
- The mistake in the riddle is adding the $1 instead of recognizing it as part of the $98 balance.
Step 4: The Correct Breakdown
Instead of thinking $98 + $1, you should recognize:
- $97 went to the store for the shirt.
- $2 went back to your parents.
- $1 stayed with you.
So, there is no missing dollar!
Why This Puzzle Works as a Brain Teaser
This riddle is a perfect example of how misdirection can trick the mind into thinking something is missing when everything actually adds up. It highlights the importance of logical reasoning and proper number association.
People often try to fit numbers into a pattern without checking if the calculations actually make sense. The real issue is the way the problem is framed, rather than an actual discrepancy in the numbers.
How to Improve Your Logical Thinking with Riddles Like This
If you enjoy puzzles like this, here are some ways to sharpen your problem-solving skills:
1. Always Question the Framing
Before assuming something is wrong, ask yourself: Am I looking at the numbers correctly? Sometimes, puzzles use misleading language to make you group unrelated figures together.
2. Break Down Each Step Clearly
Writing out each step, like we did in this article, helps clarify the logic behind a problem. This method makes it easier to spot errors in reasoning.
3. Check Your Assumptions
In this puzzle, we assumed that the debt ($98) and the $1 kept were separate, when in reality, the $1 kept was already included in the $98. Always double-check if your assumptions align with basic math principles.
4. Practice with Similar Puzzles
The best way to improve your logic skills is to practice puzzles that challenge your assumptions. Try solving classic riddles like:
- The Two Missing Dollar Puzzle
- The Hotel Room Overcharge Mystery
- The Monty Hall Problem
Video : The Missing Dollar Mystery!
Each of these requires you to rethink how you view numbers and logic.
Final Thoughts: There Was Never a Missing Dollar!
The Missing Dollar Riddle is a clever wordplay trick rather than a genuine mathematical mystery. By misdirecting your focus, it makes you believe that something has disappeared when, in reality, everything adds up perfectly.
Understanding this puzzle teaches an important lesson: always check the logic behind numbers before assuming something is missing. Sometimes, the real trick isn’t about a missing dollar—it’s about how your mind processes information!
Now that you know the solution, did you fall for the trick at first? Let us know in the comments if you figured it out quickly or if this riddle had you second-guessing your math skills!
I Was Late to My Grandmom’s Funeral—When I Finally Got to Her Grave, There Was a Small Package with My Name on It

When Teresa’s grandmother passes away, she races across continents, desperate to say goodbye… but she arrives too late. Wracked with guilt, she visits the grave, only to discover a mysterious package left just for her. As Teresa navigates grief and love, she learns that some bonds transcend time, offering solace in the most unexpected ways.
When my uncle called that morning, I knew something was wrong before he said a word. His voice had this sharp, clipped edge, but I could still hear the strain in it.

A man talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney
“Grandma’s gone, Teresa,” he said. “She passed last night.”
For a moment, the world went silent. It was as if my mind refused to process the words.
“The funeral’s tomorrow,” he added. “If you’re not here, we’ll have to bury her without you.”
“What? Tomorrow?” My voice cracked. “I can’t… there’s no way I can get there that fast!”

A shocked woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Then don’t bother,” he said curtly. “She’s gone, Teresa. We won’t wait for you… we can’t.”
I stood frozen, phone in hand, the sharp beep of the call ending pulling me out of my stupor. My uncle Craig, ever the practical and unyielding one, had spoken as if my grandmother’s passing was just another event on a packed calendar.
But she wasn’t just my grandmother. She was my everything.

A smiling old woman | Source: Midjourney
She’d raised me after my mom passed, back when I was too young to understand what death meant. Grandma became my world. She stepped into the role of mom, confidante, and teacher with ease.
Life with her was a steady rhythm of love and laughter, her warmth filling the void my mother’s death left behind.
The thought of not being there for her, of not saying goodbye, tore at me.

An upset woman looking out of a window | Source: Midjourney
I booked the first flight out, throwing clothes into a suitcase without even checking if they matched. I wasn’t even sure if I had suitable funeral clothing, either. Every second felt like a betrayal.
I couldn’t bear the thought of her being lowered into the ground while I was thousands of miles away, stuck in some airport terminal.
The plane ride was unbearable. I was unable to eat, my food tray just sitting there, the food getting cold and congealing. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t watch any of the movies or listen to music.

A tray of airplane food | Source: Midjourney
I was numb.
Memories of my grandmother flooded my mind. Her stories, her hugs, her quiet wisdom… I kept telling myself I’d make it in time, but when I finally landed and called my uncle, the funeral was already over.
“We couldn’t wait, Teresa. Don’t act shocked. I told you this already,” he said flatly.

A woman standing in an airport | Source: Midjourney
By the time I arrived at her house, it was empty, stripped of the life it once held. My cousins had cleared out, leaving behind traces of their rushed goodbyes. There was a half-empty water bottle on the counter, a crumpled tissue on the sofa, someone’s forgotten lipstick on the floor.
I stood in the doorway, letting the silence engulf me.
Grandma’s favorite chair was still by the window, the blanket she’d always kept on her lap folded neatly over the back. On the side table, an unfinished knitted sock lay abandoned, the lavender yarn still threaded through the needles.

A ball of yarn and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
I reached out, brushing my fingers against the soft fabric, and the tears came in a flood.
She had been working on this. Just days ago, she’d sat here, humming softly as she knitted, probably thinking about some old family recipes.
I sank into the chair, clutching the sock like it was a lifeline. Memories of her voice, her laughter, her love, rushed over me. The ache in my chest was unbearable, but I didn’t want it to stop.
This pain was all I had left of her.

An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
When the sunlight began streaming through the window, I wiped my face and stood. There was one thing I still had to do.
I stopped at a florist and bought a bouquet of daisies, her favorite. The drive to the cemetery was a blur, my mind racing with all the things I wished I’d said, the moments I wished I could relive.
The grave was easy to find.

A bucket of daisies at a florist | Source: Midjourney
The fresh mound of dirt stood out starkly against the older, weathered headstones. My breath hitched as I approached, the reality of it hitting me all over again.
This was it. Her final resting place.
But something caught my eye. At the base of the grave, nestled in the dirt, was a small package. My name, Teresa, was scrawled on the paper in her unmistakable handwriting.

A package in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
My hands shook as I picked it up, my heart pounding.
The package felt almost warm, as if her love had left a mark on it. I tore at the wrapping, revealing a folded note inside.
My dear Teresa, it began.
I know your uncle probably won’t let us see each other one last time. I don’t know where I went wrong with him… but he’s always been jealous of the bond we share. I need you to know this: Teresa, you are my love, my joy, and the light in the darkest of days.
I asked Rina to leave this package on my grave after I’m gone. This is so you’ll never be late again.

A woman reading a note in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
I gasped.
Grandma had planned this? Had she known exactly how things would unfold?
And it made sense to me. Craig probably thought that Grandma was going to leave a whole lot of money to me, her house even. Not that I wanted any of it…
“Oh, Gran,” I muttered.

An old woman writing a letter | Source: Midjourney
Tears blurred my vision as I opened the smaller package inside. A gold wristwatch glinted in the sunlight, its face encircled by tiny diamonds. I turned it over, and there, engraved on the back, were the words:
Grandma and Teresa. Always and Forever.
I dropped to my knees, clutching the watch to my chest. The ache in my heart swelled to unbearable proportions. She had thought of me, even in her final days, leaving behind this symbol of her love for me.

A woman holding a watch in a box | Source: Midjourney
As I sat there, the pieces of her note lingered in my mind.
My uncle. His jealousy.
It all made sense now, the way he’d rushed the funeral, his brusque phone calls, the coldness in his voice. He’d never hidden his resentment, but to think that he’d taken it this far… refusing to wait even a few hours.
Still, as much as his actions stung, I couldn’t let them overshadow what I held in my hands. The watch wasn’t just an heirloom, it was a promise.

A man standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
It was the promise of a connection to my grandmother that time could never erase.
The cemetery was quiet as I stood by her grave, sharing memories, apologizing for being late, and thanking her for everything she’d given me.
When I finally stood to leave, I slipped the watch onto my wrist. It felt like a piece of her was with me, tangible and eternal.

A woman standing in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
The house was still empty when I returned, but it didn’t feel quite as suffocating anymore. I stood in the living room, looking at the remnants of her life, her unfinished sock, the framed photo of the two of us by the mantel.
Moments later, the door opened.
“Teresa,” he said. “What are you doing here? Why bother to come when everything is over?”
“How can you ask me such a question?” I gasped.

A grandmother’s living room | Source: Midjourney
“She was old, Teresa,” he said. “What did you expect? That the old woman would live forever?”
“When did you get so cruel, Uncle Craig?” I asked.
“When did you get so self-righteous?” he spat.
Before I knew it, two men from a moving company walked into the house.

Two men standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“I’m taking the furniture. And those expensive plates and vases. I’m going to sell them.”
“Gran will never forgive you for this,” I said simply, sitting down on the couch.
“Gran is long gone, Teresa. It’s time to move on. And don’t try to contest the will,” he said. “Gran would have given everything to me. I can’t wait to give Rose her watch. My mother would absolutely want her first-born granddaughter to have it.”

A cupboard with expensive crockery | Source: Midjourney
I pulled my sleeve down, hoping that Craig wouldn’t see the watch. I wasn’t going to hand it over. No way. But at the same time, I didn’t want to entertain Craig. He could take everything else.
A few months had passed since I left my grandmother’s house for the last time. Life had resumed its usual rhythm, or at least, that’s what it looked like from the outside.
The watch stayed on my wrist, its weight a constant reminder of her. Some days, I caught myself holding it, brushing my thumb over the inscription as if I could summon her voice.

A watch on a person’s wrist | Source: Midjourney
One evening, I made myself a cup of tea, Gran’s favorite chamomile blend, and curled up on the sofa with a blanket. The unfinished sock from her house now sat on my coffee table, neatly placed in a small knitting basket.
I picked up the knitting needles, my fingers still clumsy and awkward with the motions. She’d tried to teach me once, years ago, but I’d been too impatient to sit still.

A cup of tea on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“One day you’ll see,” she’d said with a knowing smile. “That knitting is like life. You just keep going, one stitch at a time.”
One stitch at a time.

A lavender sock and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
Judy and her family get into the habit of saving money in a “family stash jar,” which is used for emergencies or family outings. But soon, she starts noticing that someone in the family has sticky fingers, helping themselves to the money. Judy has to figure out who it is and what is the reason for such dishonesty.
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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