Felix put his head in his hands and sighed. No matter how often he went through the monthly figures for his home handyman business, he couldn’t deny the facts. He was facing another shortfall this month

Felix notices his elderly neighbor laboring to trim her overgrown yard and runs to assist. As a thank you, she thrusts an odd antique box upon him; however, Felix finds himself in serious legal hot water when her attorney calls to demand an immediate appointment.

Felix was looking over his handyman business’s monthly accounts when he heard a lawnmower snarl. When he peered out his kitchen window, he was startled to see an old woman named Mrs. McAllister using her cane as a walking aid and straining to maneuver her lawnmower with one hand.

Mrs. McAllister was crimson in the face and drenched in sweat when Felix caught up to her. She turned off the lawnmower.

“Felix…Can I help with something, please?you with? She gasped.

“Please move aside so I can assist you! To be honest, Mrs. McAllister, your son ought to be assisting you with these household tasks. It’s wrong to leave your aging mother to struggle on her own.

Felix was invited inside for a drink of lemonade by Mrs. McAllister after a tiring morning spent mowing and raking the tall, wet grass. The dirty mess of cobwebs, dirt, and trinkets in her house astounded him. Felix thought that his generous neighbor was no longer able to care for herself.

“You go now, sweetie.” On the table, Mrs. McAllister set down a glass of lemonade.

“I also want this to belong to you. This antique has been handed down through my family.

Felix scowled at the metal container she extended for him. It was quite weighty and featured a curious set of dials on the lid.

“Mrs. McAllister, I don’t need a fancy gift for such a simple task.” Felix returned the box to her hand.

Mrs. McAllister cast a disappointed glance. She demanded he take something to make up for his worries and went to get his daughter Suzie an apple-filled grocery bag. She then groaned loudly and collapsed into her armchair, obviously tired.

Felix left Mrs. McAllister to rest, insisting that she phone him the next time she needs assistance. Later on in the day, Suzie hurried up to Felix, grinning with excitement.

“Look, Dad! I found something under the apples that Mrs. McAllister gave us!” She pointed out to him the same weird metal box. “I can’t open it, but I think these dials are a combination lock.”

“Suzie, I know you adore vintage puzzle boxes and stuff, but we’re not keeping this.” He extended his hand to grasp the package. “I will give it back to Mrs. McAllister.”

Felix insisted even though Suzie was furiously unhappy. With the box in hand, he marched back to Mrs. McAllister’s house, but she did not answer the door. He groaned in frustration and reached for the door handle. He stepped inside after shouting to Mrs. McAllister that he was returning her box safely.

The body of Mrs. McAllister was hunched over in the recliner. Her eyes were empty and unseen as they gazed at the wall.

“Mrs. McAllister!” Felix hurried to her side and yelled, but it was too late—Mrs. McAllister had vanished.

It wasn’t until much later that Felix noticed the box was in his pocket. He looked for comparable antique boxes on the internet on a whim. When he eventually located a match, he cursed.

This was a $250,000 box!

Felix couldn’t return the package even though he hadn’t wanted to, and Suzie’s future would be guaranteed by that sum of money. For the benefit of Suzie, he had to sell it. Felix put the box somewhere safe in the interim. Felix received an odd phone call a few days later.

“This is Tim, the attorney for Mrs. McAllister. I would like to schedule a meeting with you right away. Are you free right now?

Felix was cautious about Tim’s haste, but he agreed to meet the lawyer at a town cafe. He was interested as to why Tim wanted to see him, despite his discomfort. When he came and found Henry, the son of Mrs. McAllister, sitting at a table with the man who had to be Tim, his uncertainty only deepened.

Felix joined them, and Henry sent him a look. Felix, allow me to get right to the point. A priceless heirloom—a tiny box with few dials on the lid—has vanished from my mother’s home. Since you were the last person in her home, I wanted to give you an opportunity to act morally.

“You believe I took something from your mom?” Felix bellowed. “Mrs. McAllister gave me the box as a token of appreciation for mowing her lawn—a duty you ought to have performed for her!”

“You would never have gotten that box from Mom!” Felix was stabbed by Henry with his finger. It was commissioned from a renowned artisan by my great-great-grandfather, a well-known politician! There are just two in the entire globe! I’ll give you $1,000 for the box if you return it to me. Alright?

“No.” Felix got to his feet. “When I put it up for auction, you are welcome to participate in the bidding. Henry, good bye.

Felix took the box to a nearby auction house the following day to have it valued. Mr. Whitaker, a serious guy with a snobbish accent, summoned him to an assessment in a back room. Ellen, a woman, also joined them.

Mr. Whitaker stated, “I can confirm right away that the craftsman’s mark on the underside is genuine.” That implies, sir, that this is a really noteworthy piece. One of just two worldwide.

Ellen bent to look inside the box. That is really beautiful.Could you please show me your provenance paperwork?

“Pardon me?” Felix queried.

A muscle in the woman’s cheek quivered. “Any verifiable document that demonstrates the authenticity of the artifact and your ownership, or a certificate of authentication, must be provided.”

Felix lied, saying, “Uh…I left all that stuff at home.” He objected to the direction this appraisal had gone. After removing the package from the table, he made his way toward the door. “I’ll go get it and come back right away.”

“You cannot be allowed to do that.” Ellen moved to the side, obstructing his way to the door.

“We have a duty to report any…discrepancies involving objects associated with historical personalities to the relevant authorities.”

Felix went into a panic. He swerved to avoid the woman and Mr. Whitaker, then shot out into the corridor. As soon as he arrived at the reception area, an alarm went off.

Felix ducked and slid past guards who were scrambling to stop him, feeling as though he was back on his high school football field. He sprang away from the grip of one and bolted out of the building onto the street. From then, he ran until his legs were completely numb.

Felix walked his living room, considering what to do. In order to put money into Suzie’s future, he had to sell the box, but he needed some sort of paperwork to make it happen.

He wished he could find out from Mrs. McAllister. She would likely be able to supply the precise documentation he required to show provenance as well as know exactly what they were. Felix thought for a moment, thinking there might be a market for the box. He didn’t want to do it, but he was stuck with no other option.

Felix went through his toolboxes and picked out a few necessary items, then went to the garage to get his boltcutter. Felix broke into Mrs. McAllister’s residence after Suzie went to bed that evening in order to find the documents he need.

Felix felt a shiver run down his spine as he entered Mrs. McAllister’s bedroom. The smell in here was still hers. He forced himself to see into her personal space even though it felt intrusive and spooky. The light in the bedroom came on while he was halfway across the space.

“You’re not so mighty and high now, Felix?” Henry snarled from the entrance.

Felix pivoted. Felix had a flash in his eyes as Henry snapped pictures of him with his phone raised.

Felix covered his face with a raised hand. Henry, this isn’t how it looks. All I need is—

“I know the paperwork for the box.” Henry grinned. “The auction house contacted me after you attempted to swindle them since my family is known to have a link to that box. I told them, of course, that you took it.

“That is untrue!”

“But without the right paperwork, it’s impossible to prove ownership.” Henry filled the entryway with his stance, arms crossed. “Neither can you sell it. I’ll give you till tomorrow at eight in the morning to turn it in; if not, I’ll phone the police.

Felix took out running from Mrs. McAllister’s house as Henry moved aside. He was burdened by the implications he now had to face. The day he discovered Mrs. McAllister dead, he wished he had left the box at her home.

However, she had desired it for him! Felix didn’t think Henry would follow through on his promise to turn over the box. Ideas were flying through his head. He knew what he had to do by daylight.

He woke Suzie and instructed her to hurriedly pack her bags, then requested his mom to come over right now. They were all gathered at the front door a few hours later. Now that he had covered everything, it was time to say their goodbyes.

Felix handed Suzie the box. “As soon as you can, sell it. Please don’t accept anything less than $100,000 for it. The only way to escape this disaster and yet make sure you have the best possible life is to do this.

Tightly hugging his daughter, Felix fought back the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. One of the toughest things he had ever had to do in his life was say goodbye to her.

“Suzie, I know you’ll have a wonderful life,” he added, gazing into her eyes. “Travel to see what the world has to offer and study hard so you can make something of yourself.” Observe your grandmother.Family is vital, and we should show respect for the elderly.

In the distance, police sirens sounded. Half an hour had passed since Henry’s deadline at 8:30 a.m. He had a suspicion that those sirens were pursuing him. He kept his eyes on Mom and Suzie as they pulled out of the driveway, hearing the police sirens becoming closer. When the police detained him, he found some solace in the fact that they were out of this mess.

Legal complications hampered the allegations against Felix, despite Henry’s threats. The absence of the box cast doubt on several crucial aspects of Henry’s case. Felix waited for his court date in a detention cell for four months. A guard informed him one day that someone had paid his bail.

Felix was genuinely perplexed. Suzie was waiting for him in the front portion of the prison, where he followed the man. Together, they strolled outdoors. Mom was waiting for them, parked at the curb.

Felix replied, “Okay, Suzie, I can’t wait any longer,” as they climbed into the vehicle. “What’s happening?”

“Well, I ignored your advice regarding the box.” Suzie gave a shy smile. Rather, I discovered how to open it. There was a note from Mrs. McAllister along with an authentication certificate inside. Dad, she genuinely wanted that package to belong to you. That was stated in the note.

Felix scowled. Suzie wasn’t done, so he didn’t have much time to consider Mrs. McAllister’s request that he take the box, even though he still didn’t comprehend it.

“I showed your lawyer the note, and after that, I brought the box containing all the documents to an antique dealer.” Suzie gave this big smile. “He gave us enough money to post bail, and we have an additional $100,000!”

My Husband Faked Renting Our House When He Actually Owned It, But Karma Quickly Caught Up With Him

The house. That was where our problems had begun.

Every month, a significant portion of my paycheck went toward the rent of our little home. Paul, my husband, and I both contributed to the rent, but he always handled the payments to our elusive landlord.

I trusted him implicitly, and of course, I never questioned his actions.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Paul would say. “I’ll take the money from our joint account each month and do the rest.”

Years passed, and my sacrifices continued. Paul took care of the power and the water bills, and we both contributed to the groceries. As difficult as it sometimes was, we both knew that it was just something that needed to be done.

One day, Paul had to leave early for a short business trip. It wasn’t anything new, and we had both gotten used to him going away on these trips.

“Do you want me to take care of rent?” I asked as I helped him pack his clothes away. “I know that you’re going to be traveling on the first of the month.”

“No, but thank you,” he said. “I’ll try and log on from my laptop and do it, or I’ll just handle it when I’m back.”

“Honey, you’re already doing so much for us. Let me lighten the burden and help,” I said.

Paul sighed deeply and took two ties out of his closet.

“It’s fine, Emma,” he said curtly. “I’ve got it under control.”

My husband left early the next morning and that was it. He didn’t speak about the rent topic again.

As the days went by and the rent was due the following day, I left my office during lunch to go to the bank.

“Where are you headed off to?” Jessica asked me as I gathered my handbag and cellphone before leaving the office.

“Just to the bank,” I replied. “I’ll be back soon and then we can get something for lunch.”

I walked into the bank ready to make a payment and lighten my husband’s load. But what I discovered was a different reality altogether.

I approached a teller and explained my situation, giving her all my relevant details.

“I just need to transfer rent money to my landlord,” I said. “My husband usually does this stuff, but he’s away on business.”

The teller smiled at me and looked at my identity document before continuing.

“Certainly, ma’am,” the teller said, pulling up the account details. “Could you confirm the account number?”

I read the number off the notepad I had taken from Paul’s desk that morning. He had a habit of writing all his important information on that one notepad.

“Thank you,” the teller said, typing the number in.

“A Mrs. Helen Parker?” she asked. “That’s your landlord’s account?”

I blinked in confusion.

“Helen Parker? Are you sure that’s what it says?” I exclaimed, my hands feeling clammy.

The teller, sensing that something was amiss, double-checked the records, frowning slightly as she concentrated.

“This is the account that has been receiving money from your account. It’s actually been receiving money for years.”

Paul’s mother. Helen Parker was Paul’s mother.

“There must be some mistake, surely,” I said.

“I’m afraid not, ma’am,” she said. “This account has consistently received the monthly payments. Look, I can print it all out for you if you’d like to go through it yourself.”

I nodded, too numb with shock.

I left the bank and drove home in a daze, forgetting that I needed to get back to work entirely.

Once home, I went straight to Paul’s study and began rifling through his drawers. I needed answers.

“How on earth have I been paying for his mother’s lifestyle all these years?” I said aloud.

It didn’t take long to find everything I needed. There it was, the ownership document for our house, signed and dated years ago, with Paul listed as the sole owner.

I didn’t know what to think, so I sat in silence for a few moments until my phone rang.

“Emma?” Jessica’s voice ran through the room. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you come back to the office?”

Quickly, I caught my best friend up on the drama.

“So, the rent that you’ve been paying is actually Helen’s allowance?” Jessica gasped. “That’s so ridiculous!”

“Yes,” I replied, holding my head in my hands. “I don’t know what to do. Paul is away for the next few days.”

“Did he take his laptop?” Jessica asked.

“No, actually, he didn’t,” I replied.

“Then go through it! Look for more information!”

My hands trembling, I turned on his laptop and found a series of messages exchanged between Paul and Helen. The messages detailed their plan, discussing how they would keep me in the dark and ensure I continued to pay rent, funneling my money straight to her.

“What the heck?” I muttered under my breath.

As the full weight of the betrayal settled on me, karma arrived with no delay. That evening, a violent storm swept through our town, leaving floods behind.

Of course, my house was one of them.

By the next morning, water started seeping through the ceiling, and within minutes, the whole house was flooded.

I took my belongings and went to a hotel. I wasn’t about to suffer through this alone.

“You can come to me,” Jessica said when I called to tell her that I was staying at a hotel.

“No,” I said. “I don’t plan on staying in the house long, so I’ll be here for a while. When Paul returns home, I’ll go to the house and get the last of my things.”

On the day that Paul was scheduled to come home, I went over to the house and worked my way through the things that were not damaged by the flooding.

“Emma, are you okay?” he asked as he stepped into the house. “What happened here?”

I turned to him, my eyes cold.

“I’m fine. But the house isn’t. The ceiling doesn’t look too good in some places. But it’s a good thing that’s not our house, right? The landlord’s insurance can cover it.”

To his credit, my husband isn’t stupid and he was able to pick up on my sarcasm easily.

Paul paled, realizing that he was trapped.

“Emma, I can explain,” he said.

“Don’t bother,” I interrupted. “I found the bank records, the ownership documents, and your messages to Helen. I know everything.”

Paul’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

“How could you do that to me?” I asked quietly. “Especially after knowing that I wanted to do things for myself. I wanted us to go on trips together and make memories. But all this time, I was just using my hard-earned money to take care of your mother?”

“What do you want me to tell you? That she’s old and needs it?” Paul asked.

“We both know that’s not the case,” I retorted. “Your father left everything to her. She’s doing fine. And in any case, it’s not that I wouldn’t have wanted to help Helen if I knew. It’s the fact that you’ve been lying for years.”

“Just wait,” Paul said. “I’m sure that we can work through this.”

“No, we cannot,” I replied. “You’ve been using me for years and I’m finally done with all of this.”

I walked out of the house and went back to the hotel where Jessica promised to come over and spend the evening with me.

The next day, I consulted a lawyer and fought to reclaim the money that I had unknowingly handed over to Helen.

In the end, justice prevailed and the court ruled in my favor, ordering Paul and his mother to repay every cent I had given them over the years.

With my newfound financial freedom, I got myself a little apartment, someplace that I could easily lock up and leave when it was time for a getaway.

And as for Paul? After the money was settled, I filed for a divorce, and left him in the past with his mother.

What would you have done?

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