Madison and Jessica turned to a life of robbery after escaping their abusive stepdad. One fateful burglary at an unknown older lady’s mansion leads them down an unexpected path when they stumble upon a photo linked to their past.
“One last signature there,” the attorney said, smiling when the 25-year-old twins Madison and Jessica followed his lead. “There! It’s all yours!”
Once the lawyer left, Jessica’s gaze lingered on the towering ceilings and ornate décor of the Victorian-style mansion nestled in the outskirts of the quiet town.
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“Can you believe it, Maddy!?” she exclaimed, feeling excitement swishing through her veins. “We own this now! It’s OURS!
Jessica rejoiced, not realizing that her sister hadn’t said a word and was instead quietly crying.
“Maddy, what’s wrong?” Jessica asked, confused.
“Jess, this mansion, the way we got it…It still feels like a dream,” Madison said, breathless and disbelieving. She closed her eyes and thought about the lower point in their life 16 years ago. They were nine and had only $3 in their pockets after fleeing their stepfather.
In the fall of 2002, the twins lived with their stepfather, Martin, after their mother died in a car accident 1999. While he always had trouble drinking, his wife’s death worsened things. He took his frustrations out on them and couldn’t hold down a job.
Madison and Jessica tried to be good, despite how often he reminded them they were a burden. But after years of this mistreatment, Martin got home drunk one night, expecting food on the table.
“We’re really sorry, sir,” Madison said softly, her head lowered in fright. “We had a lot of homework to do today. Dinner will be ready in just 20 minutes. Please forgive us for being late.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Jessica agreed.
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Still, Martin didn’t like their answer. He grabbed their notebooks and bags, hurling them around the living room carelessly.
“I don’t care about your school. Do you understand, you lazy little rats?” Martin yelled, terrifying them. “If I have to raise you, you’ll have to work around here! If this happens again, you’ll be out on the streets!”
The girls looked at each other, and although this wasn’t the first time he had threatened to kick them out, his words still caused intense terror.
Madison began to cry while Jessica tried to stop the tears, uttering, “Yes, sir.”
Martin grinned, his rage dissipating now that he knew they were afraid. He grabbed a beer from his fridge and sat in front of the TV while dialing to order some pizza. Of course, he wouldn’t share that with them.
Madison ran to their room, and Jessica followed closely. “What are we doing to do?” she asked her crying sister. “We can’t live with that ogre anymore.”
Her twin wiped her tears away. “Where would we go?”
“I know, but he doesn’t even feed us. He hates us,” Jessica continued. “Wouldn’t it be better to just leave? Run away?”
“Run where?” Madison asked, looking around.
“Anywhere. Somewhere better than here,” her sister added, shrugging.
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“OK,” Madison said, nodding. They quieted and stared into each other eyes for a long time. Then, they hugged tightly and began to pack. They checked the few pennies and dimes they’d managed to steal here and there, but it was only three dollars between them.
When they were ready, they exited their room slowly, checking that Martin was fast asleep. His pizza box was only half empty, and his beer can was still in his hand.
Jessica stopped Madison for a second. “Wait, I can’t leave until I do something,” Jessica said, put her things down, and ran to her stepfather’s room.
“What are you doing?” Madison whispered-yelled, panicking. But Jessica was back quickly with a bottle. She tiptoed to Martin’s and poured a powder on his open beer can. Luckily, he was snoring loudly.
Jessica threw the bottle on the floor, grabbed her things, and ushered Madison out.
“What was that?” her sister asked.
“Laxative,” she answered, grinning slightly.
Madison almost burst out laughing loudly but covered her mouth, and they left, never to see their horrible stepfather again.
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For the next 15 years, the girls traveled all over the country, surviving by stealing and begging where they could. Eventually, they raised enough money to buy a cheap minivan.
They had to leave towns quickly and change their appearances after stealing. It was a complicated life, but it worked for them. Jessica was the most daring, while Madison was usually more reserved and scared when stealing.
While traveling through Boston, they suddenly encountered a neighbor with a large, beautiful mansion.
“Look at that house, Maddy. I bet we could grab just one box of jewelry and be set for the rest of the year,” Jessica pointed out, stopping the car only a few paces away.
“I don’t know, Jess. Those wrought-iron fences are heavy-duty. It’ll be tough to climb. Plus, these places probably have alarm systems and stuff, right?” Madison shook her head but stared at the state with wonder.
“Well, I’m going,” Jessica insisted, removing her seat belt and climbing out of the driving seat. Madison followed, trying to talk her out of it.
As predicted, the fence was hard to climb, but there was no alarm, at least. Jessica was an expert in picking locks, but she knew rich folks always left their doors open. “Bingo,” she whispered, rolling a side door open.
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The twins entered a dressing room and ransacked as quickly as possible, finding jewelry and designer bags galore.
When they were ready to leave, Madison lifted her heavy bag and accidentally knocked a vase.
“Oops!” she whispered, looking at her sister with panicked eyes.
“We have to go,” Jessica said calmly. “Let’s pray she didn’t hear this.”
“Who’s there?” they suddenly heard as lights turned on. An old woman in her nightgown stood in the doorway. “Who are you?”
The twins stared at each other, wondering what to do next.
“Oh, no. Please don’t take that,” the lady continued, her eyes on the box Jessica had in her hands because it didn’t fit in her bag. Her eyes teared up quickly. “Take anything else but that, and I won’t call the police.”
The twins were flustered, but Jessica would not leave that box now that the old woman basically confirmed it was valuable. “MADDY, RUN!” she yelled, rushing to the old woman at the door and pushing her to the side.
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“Please, those jewels are worth more than money!” the old woman wailed after catching herself from falling.
Madison only hesitated a second before following her sister. They rushed down, exiting through the sliding door and not looking back until they were securely in their van. Madison looked up at the mansion and saw the old woman staring through the window.
“We did a terrible thing, Jess,” Madison lamented. “She said they’re worth more than money.”
“Yeah, that means what’s in this box is more valuable than everything else. This is how we survive,” Jessica snapped, driving on.
They were too tired to get away from Boston that night, so they stopped at an empty rest stop, and Jessica fell asleep quickly. Madison couldn’t stay still, so instead, she grabbed the box and returned to the old woman’s house.
Instead of breaking in again, Madison rang her doorbell. The old woman’s eyes widened when she saw her without a mask and holding the jewelry box in her hand.
“I’m sorry for what we did earlier,” Madison spoke in a soft voice laced with guilt and sympathy. “My sister and I were in a tough spot. Please, forgive us. Don’t call the police.”
The old woman stared at her sweetly, holding back tears, and asked Madison inside. She asked the younger woman to call her Mrs. George, and they began to talk. After a while, Madison looked at the pictures on her mantelpiece, noting many people.
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But one frame caught her eye.
“Wh—who is this?” Madison stuttered, her eyes brimming with tears. The old lady’s eyes followed Madison’s gaze at the photo, and she was puzzled about what had suddenly made the young woman cry.
“Well, that’s…that’s my late daughter, Amber,” Mrs. George replied softly, her glass becoming foggy due to the warm tears in her eyes. “she was a beauty, wasn’t she? But why do you cry?”
Madison’s heart skipped a beat as she stared intently at the photo and then back at Mrs. George.
“What? Your daughter? It can’t be…Th—that’s my MOM!”
The living room fell silent as the two women exchanged a puzzled glance, their eyes filled with emotion. “Your mother?!” the grandmother whispered as her face was drained of blood.
“Oh, my God! This is unbelievable! Honey, I’m your grandmother!” Mrs. George gasped as she pulled Madison into a tight embrace, realizing they were connected in a way they could have never imagined.
“Wh—How can this be? I never knew we had a grandmother!” Madison exclaimed in shock. “I’ll go bring my sister. She needs to know too!”
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Madison bolted to the minivan and told Jessica everything.
“What! And she’s our grandma? OMG…how’s that possible? How come we didn’t know about her all these years?” Jessica was stunned when her sister revealed the encounter back in the grandmother’s estate.
“Yeah, Jess! It’s unbelievable. The woman we just robbed is our GRANDMOTHER! Let’s go and find out further.”
They talked to the old woman, apologizing for stealing from her. Mrs. George apologized, too, because she never knew of their existence.
“My daughter and I had several problems. She was boy-crazy and didn’t pick the right men. She cut me off eventually, and I didn’t even know where she moved to. I thought it was best to let her come to me later,” their grandmother explained.
They talked more, and the old woman told them to stay in her house. They took a DNA test a few days later to confirm, and Mrs. George promised they would never have to steal again.
Nine months later, Mrs. George passed, and Madison and Jessica inherited her house and the entire estate, although it took a few months before they finalized everything.
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“If we had known about her before, we could’ve lived this life all along,” Madison cried, and Jessica ran to her arms.
“Instead, we burglarized our grandmother’s house,” Jessica cried and laughed, tightening her embrace.
“Breaking into this house was the best thing we ever did,” Madison said. “So, thank you. For being our brave and stupid Robin Hood.”
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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about twins who found a baby abandoned on a stroller and discovered her $3 million legacy later.
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.
Man Kicked Pregnant Woman out – Story of the Day
I was so thrilled to reveal our pear-sized growing baby to my boyfriend, thinking he would be delighted with a surprise party and the ultrasound images. Instead, he threw me out of his house and the last person I imagined was right there for me.
The doorbell’s bright chime disrupted my excited anticipation. I smoothed the baby blue tablecloth and set down the ultrasound scans on the coffee table, displaying them proudly. After four months, Miles was returning from pursuing his football dreams.
He was coming home to a surprise. As he entered, sweat-streaked and weary, his eyes fixed on the swell beneath my dress. I was pregnant, but my excited anticipation faded under his intense gaze.
“Miles, we’re having a baby,” I stated, my voice wavering.
“I never wanted to be a father, Bella,” he scoffed. “You’re ruining everything!
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Suddenly, I noticed his friend, Dave, standing right behind him. He spoke up from the doorway. “Stop yelling at her, man.”
“This is none of your business, Dave!” Miles snapped back and slammed the door in his friend’s face.
I clutched my belly protectively as tears blurred my vision. “I want this child, Miles. It’s part of us,” I insisted.
“I can’t deal with a baby now, Annabelle. It’s your problem if you keep it,” he shook his head.
“But I thought you loved me,” I whispered.
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“That’s not enough. Love doesn’t win championships,” he retorted. “It’s the baby or me. You choose.”
“I won’t give up our child,” I declared, strength rising within me.
“Then leave my house—and my life!” he demanded, his eyes unyielding.
With a protective resolve for my unborn child, I packed my things and left, knowing I could never choose Miles over this new life.
Snowflakes spiraled under the streetlamp’s glow as I struggled with disbelief. Miles’ betrayal echoed in my mind, shattering my dreams for the future. I sat on a snow-draped step, cradling my belly, feeling utterly alone.
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Echoes of my lonely past – growing up in an orphanage and never making familial connections – loomed over me. But out of nowhere, Dave appeared, his concern etched in the snow-melted paths on his face.
“Annabelle, come with me until you figure things out,” he offered, kneeling to look into my eyes.
I hesitated, pride warring with desperation. “I can’t, Dave. I don’t want your pity.”
His earnest plea broke through my resolve as a sudden pain clenched my abdomen. “You need a safe place. Let’s go,” Dave insisted.
Reluctantly, I acquiesced, guided more by necessity than choice, and we drove through the blizzard to his cozy, cluttered home. It was such a different atmosphere than what I’d known with Miles, filled with warmth and haphazard charm.
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Mismatched furniture and overflowing bookshelves spoke of a life well-lived.
“Thank you,” I murmured, grateful yet overwhelmed.
While I settled in, Dave fumbled with hospitality, offering me food and insisting on my comfort. Dinner was simple but nurturing, and it brought a semblance of peace. But when Dave told me he was sleeping on the couch, I had to protest.
“I’m not a burden, Dave. You should be comfortable in your own home,” I shook my head.
“It’s fine, Annabelle. Rest now. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow.”
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***
I lay in Dave’s guest room, struggling against the haunting memory of Miles’ indifferent gaze. Sleep eventually claimed me after several hours of sifting through painful thoughts and tears.
A week later, the rhythm of life with Dave brought a semblance of normalcy. He was ever considerate, his kindness so different from what I knew with my ex. However, I had to fend for myself.
One crisp morning, after Dave left for work, I slipped out with a heavy heart. I’d taken a supermarket delivery job, so I wouldn’t burden him with more of my troubles.
But the job proved harder than I imagined. Trudging through the snow, the weight of groceries, and my growing discomfort only made things harder. Also, I should’ve known Dave would try to find me.
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Suddenly, his car pulled alongside me on a busy sidewalk. His expression was full of worry and astonishment.
“Annabelle, why are you working like this?” he asked.
Trying to downplay my efforts, I mentioned needing the job for my prenatal needs. Dave frowned and shook his head angrily, but I know it stemmed from care and concern.
“I can’t just sit around, Dave. I need to prepare for the baby,” I continued, my resolve firm.
He sighed, leading me to the back of his car. “Let me show you something,” he said, opening the trunk and revealing a collection of maternity essentials. I began crying, overwhelmed by his thoughtful preparation.
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“Why all this, Dave?” I inquired through the tears.
“It’s for you and the little one,” he said with a heartfelt smile. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Annabelle.”
His words and actions, so full of unconditional support, deepened my gratitude. Hugging him, I whispered, “You’ll make a great dad someday, too.”
Still, I was still hesitant. Accepting even more from Dave seemed wrong. But he proposed a trade-off: my cooking for his support. He also joked and teased me, and that light-hearted banter eased the tension in my body and heart.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I laughed genuinely. Over the next few days, our pact became a beautiful routine at his house. I found solace in the simple acts of kindness he showered upon me.
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At the supermarket, I resolved to leave my job. I could afford to, at least for now, thanks to Dave’s support. And as time passed, our connection deepened.
Dave’s gentle presence became a constant in my life. His care was evident in every gesture, from tying my shoes to surprising me with thoughtful gifts.
One day, as he felt the baby kick, the joy in his eyes sparked a realization in me: I was falling in love with him. But fear crept in, overshadowing my newfound happiness. Could someone like Dave truly love a soon-to-be single mother with a complicated past?
These thoughts haunted me, and I wrestled with the idea of confessing my feelings, fearful of risking the precious bond we’d built.
***
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During a routine chicken casserole night, Dave arrived from work, smiling tiredly. “Smells incredible,” he complimented, placing some tulips on the table.
As we ate, he praised the meal. “Annabelle, this is phenomenal. Reminds me of my mom’s cooking.”
I felt warmth running through my body at his words. So, as we talked, our shared memories made me bold. “I’m so glad you liked it, honey,” I said, immediately regretting the slip.
Dave’s reaction was immediate: his smile faltered. Our pleasant moment was shattered, and I panicked. “Dave? I… it’s just pregnancy brain, I’m sorry,” I stammered, trying to lighten the mood.
He attempted a grin again but stood from the table. “Delicious, as always. Thanks,” he said, leaving the room abruptly.
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The following days were filled with awkward silences. Dave’s behavior changed; he left early and returned late. His greetings were brief, and his eyes always avoided mine.
One afternoon, I was curled up on the couch, lost in a sea of worry and self-loathing, when a sharp electronic chime shattered the oppressive silence.
It was a voicemail notification on Dave’s phone, lying abandoned on the coffee table.
A woman’s voice, professional and polite, filled the room. “Mr. Evans, this is a reminder that the documents for your new apartment are ready for pick-up at your convenience.”
The message struck like a blow, sinking my heart. Dave was planning to move. Heartbroken, I realized I couldn’t stay, not as a reminder of a complicated situation he wanted to escape.
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So, I decided to go, my heart even heavier than when I tried to leave before. “We have each other, my little boy,” I whispered to my belly, preparing to face the world alone as I packed.
Before I could leave, though, the blare of the doorbell made my entire body jerk. For a second, I thought it was Dave, but I opened the door to see Miles, who sneered at my pregnant form. His first words dripped with disdain. “Motherhood’s added a few pounds, huh?”
“What do you want, Miles?” I asked, my voice sharp.
He breezed past, dismissing my anger with a smirk. “Just checking on you and my bachelor buddy’s hospitality,” he said, his tone patronizing.
His audacity stunned me. “Get out,” I demanded.
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He ignored my command, finally getting to the point. “Let’s be a family, Annabelle. Think of the publicity for me, the ‘devoted dad.’”
Publicity? For his football career? Was he insane? He wanted to use our child for his gain! Revolted, I pushed him away, condemning his monstrous selfishness.
Miles laughed. “What are you going to do without me? You think Dave took you in because he loved you? Cared about you and your baggage? You were just another project, a chance to play hero. A charity case, not his ladylove.”
For a second, I considered his words, my thoughts warring in my head. But a sudden pain, sharp and unavoidable, distracted me. A few beats later, liquid splashed on the floor.
“My water broke, Miles,” I gasped, panic setting in as another contraction hit.
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His reaction shifted from mockery to horror. “The baby’s coming?” he asked, staggering back in disbelief.
As pain overwhelmed me, Miles fainted, and darkness edged my vision. But during the chaos, Dave’s voice reached me, like a knight ready to save the princess.
“Annabelle? Are you alright?” Dave asked, worriedly taking my hand. “We need to go to the hospital.”
“I… I’m so sorry, Dave,” I stammered, tears blurring my vision further. “For everything. For intruding into your life, for making you take care of me all these months. I know… about the new apartment. You were moving out because of me.”
Dave frowned and then, sighed, exasperated. “You’ve got it all wrong. The apartment is for us, Annabelle,” he explained. “It has a nursery for our baby. I love you.”
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Another sharp pain overtook my body before I could gush over his confession. Dave scooped me in his arms and put me in his car, not even caring that Miles was still unconscious on his tiled floor.
The drive to the hospital was full of agony and anticipation. Our baby boy Matthew’s arrival was a chorus of cries and relief, but it marked the beginning of our new journey, one full of love.
Years later, with the birth of our daughter Hope, our family became complete. Dave’s unwavering passion and protectiveness turned past pains into distant memories I never thought about again.
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
While a pregnant Annabelle found true love after being kicked out by her boyfriend, in another corner of the world, Megan found her special someone after her husband David left her. He not only fat-shamed his devoted wife but also dumped her for another woman. Here’s the full story.
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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