For ten years, Alice had been the devoted nurse to Martin, a wealthy, blind, and elderly man. Her days began and ended with his needs. After aging out of the foster care system at seventeen, Alice was lost until her foster mother, a close friend of Martin’s, recommended her for the job. She had been grateful ever since.
One morning, Alice was humming softly as she prepared Martin’s favorite breakfast: a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich. They were reminiscing, as they often did.
“Tell me, Alice,” Martin asked, his voice gentle but clear. “How long has it been since you started working here?”
Alice smiled as she carefully spread the sweet and salty mix onto a piece of bread. “Hmmm, I believe it’s been exactly ten years, sir.”
“I remember that time so well,” she continued, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “I was terrified of leaving the foster system. I didn’t think anyone would hire me. Then Mrs. Chester told me you needed a nurse, and… well, here I am!”
Martin nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “Ten years. Time flies, doesn’t it?” he said, reaching for the sandwich she had placed in front of him.
Just then, Martin’s son, Adam, strode into the kitchen. “Why is it that you only ever make breakfast for Dad?” he sneered. “You’re his little slave, aren’t you? Aren’t you supposed to be serving everyone in this house?”
The word “slave” struck Alice like a physical blow. Her stomach twisted, and she fought back the sudden sting of tears.
“Adam!” Martin’s voice boomed through the kitchen, a sudden thunderclap that made both Alice and Adam jump. “How dare you call her a slave! You will not speak to Alice that way again. Insult her once more, and you can forget that you are my son. Now, get out of my sight before you make me any angrier!”
Shaking his head in disbelief, Adam slowly backed out of the kitchen. “I don’t understand why you always favor her over your own son,” he muttered as he left.
Martin sighed heavily and turned his sightless eyes toward Alice. “I am so sorry, my dear. Please, have breakfast with me.”
She obliged but ate in silence, the ugly word still echoing in her mind.
“I can tell you’re sad,” Martin said softly. “I apologize for how my children treat you. I don’t know what their mother and I did for them to grow up with such arrogance.”
Alice finally looked up. “It’s alright, sir. I’m here for you, not for them. I’m lucky to have you as my employer. You are so kind to me, and that’s all that matters. In fact,” she admitted, “I see you as the only father figure I’ve ever had.”
A shadow passed over Martin’s face, a flicker of pain that was gone as quickly as it came. He forced a smile. “Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. In three days,” Alice replied.
“Good,” he said firmly. “We will celebrate.”
Three days later, on Alice’s 30th birthday, she came downstairs to find a strange scene. Martin was already sitting in the kitchen, and beside him were his four children: Adam, James, Lucy, and Eva. The clock on the wall read 6:00 AM. A wave of panic washed over her; they usually woke at eight.
“Alice, are you there?” Martin asked, a broad smile on his face.
“Yes, sir!” she said frantically. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you would be awake so early. I’ll get breakfast ready right away!” She rushed to the refrigerator.
“Come on, Alice. We’re starving,” Lucy mocked.
“Breakfast can wait,” Martin interrupted, his voice cutting through the tension. “I have a gift waiting for you outside, Alice. Happy 30th birthday.” He slowly stood, using his cane to feel the space around him.
“A gift… outside?” James asked, confused.
“You’ve never given me a gift that required going outdoors,” Eva added, sounding petulant.
Alice gently guided Martin toward the front door, his four children trailing behind them with curiosity and suspicion. Parked in the driveway was a small, practical car with a giant red ribbon on the hood.
“Unbelievable! Are you serious?” Adam scoffed.
“That’s not fair!” Lucy shrieked, her face turning red. “Why are you giving your maid a car?!” She stormed away in a huff.
Martin’s voice was firm. “Alice has been by my side for ten years. She is more family to me than any of you have been lately, and nothing you say will change that.”
Later that day, Martin hosted a small party in Alice’s honor, inviting the gardener, the driver, and the housekeeper to celebrate with them. Overwhelmed with emotion, Alice approached him. “Thank you, sir. I don’t know what I did to deserve your kindness, but I promise to do my job well for as long as you need me.”
Through the years that followed, Alice’s view of Martin shifted from a kind boss to a beloved father, and he, in turn, treated her like the daughter he never had.
When Martin turned 80, his health began to rapidly deteriorate. One day, feeling the end was near, he gathered his children—and Alice—in his room.
“I know you have all been wondering who I am leaving my estate to,” he began, his voice weak but resolute. “Lucy, Eva, Adam, and James, you already have control of the business I started. You may continue to run it. As for this house, everything in it, and all my personal savings… I give it all to Alice.”
The room erupted.
“What?!” Lucy shrieked. “What lies did this witch tell you?! Why are you leaving your inheritance to her?!”
“You will be hearing from our lawyers!” Adam threatened.
Martin held up a weak hand for silence. “That is precisely why. You were only ever after my money. Only Alice truly cared for me all these years. Besides, there’s something else… something I haven’t told you.”
But his four children, blinded by rage, stormed out of the room, leaving him alone with Alice. He turned his head toward her, and a tear escaped his eye.
“I’m sorry it took me this long,” he whispered. “I didn’t want anything to change. That is why I am only telling you now. Alice… you are my biological daughter.”
Alice gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
“Your mother left me when she learned I was already promised to another woman,” he explained, his voice thick with unshed tears. “I couldn’t marry her. When she passed away, you were left in an orphanage, and my friend—your foster mother—took you in. She only told me the truth when you turned seventeen.”
He reached a trembling hand toward her. “I apologize, Alice. I hope I treated you well. I hope I was a good father, even if you didn’t know it. I love you.”
Alice collapsed into his embrace, her own tears streaming down her face and onto his shoulder. “I love you too,” she sobbed softly. “I always felt it. I always felt you were my father, and now I know why. Thank you for the time we had together… Dad.”
The unexpected revelation eventually reached his other children, startling them and filling them with a profound and sudden remorse for their years of cruelty toward the sister they never knew they had.