I Found Wads of Dollars Hidden in My Daughter’s Room – I Was Stunned When I Discovered Where She Got Them

When Blake finds a wad of dollars hidden in her daughter’s room, she is shocked at where and how her daughter ended up with so much money. After an unsettling conversation with Nicole’s teacher, Blake has no choice but to follow Nicole after school one day, determined to uncover the truth. But what she discovers changes everything…

I didn’t know what I was expecting to find when I stepped into Nicole’s room that afternoon. The LEGO box, long forgotten under her bed, wasn’t where I thought I’d uncover the truth. I figured maybe she’d been taking things from the lost-and-found at school, or perhaps some little innocent deception kids often resort to.

But when I pulled the lid off and saw those wads of cash stuffed between the LEGO pieces, I stopped breathing.

Five thousand dollars. Or more.

Where does an 11-year-old get that kind of money?

My child wasn’t a troublemaker, at least not as far as I knew. But recently, things had been strange. She came home with items I’d never bought her. New toys, a trendy backpack, and then, most recently, an iPhone.

At first, she told me her friend Anna gave them to her, saying Anna’s rich parents didn’t mind because she didn’t need them anymore. I let it slide, kids always had those one or two friends who got all the latest gadgets. But when the phone showed up, I knew something was wrong.

No way a kid just hands out a brand-new iPhone.

“Don’t be stupid, Blake,” I told myself. “You cannot let this slide anymore.”

So, I decided to check with her teacher. Maybe this “Anna” wasn’t who Nicole claimed she was.

“Um, Ms. Harris,” Mrs. Davidson, Nicole’s teacher, said to me when I pulled her aside and spoke to her after drop-off. “There’s no Anna in this class. And Nicole doesn’t really play with the other children… She tends to be more on her own.”

My stomach sank.

That was when I knew something was seriously wrong.

Sitting in my office at work that day, I could barely concentrate. All I could see in my mind was the wads of dollars that Nicole was hoarding. How could she have so much money? What would an 11-year-old possibly be doing to get her hands on thousands of dollars?

I couldn’t think straight, but I knew one thing: I was going to find out.

That afternoon, I drove to Nicole’s school, my chest tight with dread and anger. I couldn’t believe that my child was up to something nefarious. But at the same time, it was the only kind of explanation for the money.

I parked across the street and waited, keeping a close eye on the entrance. I wanted to see whether she was going to get onto the school bus or not. When the bell rang, I spotted my daughter quickly walking out of the building, clutching her backpack like everything was normal.

But instead of heading to the buses, she slipped away from the crowd, turning down a side street.

“Where are you going, honey?” I asked myself as I watched Nicole walk away.

Of course, I was going to follow her from a distance, trying to stay out of sight.

And then I saw who Nicole was meeting, and suddenly everything made sense.

Nicole was holding hands with a woman. At first, she looked familiar, though I couldn’t place her immediately. But when the woman turned and her face came into view, my knees nearly buckled.

It was her. My mother.

The same woman who had completely walked out of my life years ago, without so much as a goodbye. The very same woman who had left me, left Nicole, to chase some man who promised her a better life.

A life without us.

And now here she was, holding my daughter’s hand as if nothing had changed.

Rage took over me, but I forced myself to stay calm. I followed them to a small café, and could hear Nicole talking animatedly to her grandmother. They slid into a corner booth in the café, and I could see Nicole laughing as though she was having the time of her life.

My mother was beaming, acting like this was some kind of family reunion.

“What the actual hell?” I muttered.

I stood there for a few moments, watching the scene unfold. My daughter ordered waffles and a chocolate milkshake, doing a little dance as the waitress took her order. My mother touched Nicole’s face as though she was a priceless piece of China.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I stormed inside, the bell over the door jingling as I approached their table.

“Mom,” I said.

They both looked up, startled. Nicole’s smile faltered, her eyes widening in confusion. My mother’s face went pale, her hand freezing halfway to the coffee cup that had been placed in front of her.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

My mother looked down, finally seeming nervous.

“I… I didn’t expect to see you here, Blake,” she said.

I folded my arms, the weight of years of abandonment and resentment pressing down on me.

“What are you doing with my daughter? You think you can just come back into our lives and act like nothing happened? After all this time?”

Nicole looked between us; the waitress had just brought over her milkshake. I knew my child didn’t understand my anger and frustration. How could she? There was no way she would have remembered the day my mother left us.

“I can explain,” my mother said.

“Explain? Explain what exactly? You left. You abandoned us. And now you’re sneaking around behind my back, dragging Nicole into your mess?”

Her eyes filled with tears, but I wasn’t ready to feel sorry for her.

Not yet.

“I know I left, Blake,” she whispered. “I know I hurt you. But I didn’t know how to come back. I thought it was too late.”

“Why now? And why Nicole? Why not me?” I asked, suddenly feeling exhausted.

My mother took a deep breath.

“Blake, I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you. I left because I was lost. The man… James, he promised me everything. He promised me the world and a better life, more than what we had. But he lied. He left me stranded in a country I didn’t know, with no money, no way to get home.”

“You could have called,” I said. “You could have reached out. I would have helped you.”

“I was ashamed, darling,” she said. “I didn’t know how to face you. I didn’t think you’d ever forgive me.”

“And you thought dragging Nicole into this mess was the solution? You’ve been giving her money, haven’t you? Have you been asking her to keep it from me? Do you think buying her things makes up for everything you did?”

My mother wiped her eyes, shaking her head.

“No, I wasn’t trying to buy her. I was trying to help. I know I failed you, but I thought maybe, just maybe, I could help you. I gave Nicole the money for the both of you…”

“Where did you get the money from?” I asked. “You said you have nothing.”

She nodded.

“In the other country, yes. But I had my savings tied up here. The moment I came back I got it out.”

I glanced at Nicole, who was staring at me, her eyes full of fear and confusion. My child didn’t deserve this.

“I’m sorry, Blake,” she said. “I know I can’t fix the past. But I thought maybe I could start apologizing with Nicole. Maybe if she knew me, if I could be a part of her life, I could find a way back to you.”

Part of me wanted to scream at her, to hold onto the anger I carried for so long. But looking at her now, older, broken, regret all over her face…

I felt bad.

“You should have come to me first,” I said. “You should have trusted me enough to handle this.”

“I know,” she whispered.

Nicole reached out, her small hand fitting into mine.

“Momma, can we give Grandma another chance?”

I looked at my daughter and knew that I needed to make the change. Despite how I felt, I needed to fix things with my mother.

“I’m not ready to forgive you,” I said honestly. “But we can work on it.”