One Day I Inherited a House From My Late Neighbor Who Hated Me,
but His One Condition Made Me Act Like Never Before — Story of the Day
Linda, a florist, cherished her suburban garden, especially her roses, vital for her wedding bouquet business. One morning, she found her rose bed buried under dirt, suspecting her grumpy neighbor, Mr. Sloan. Furious, she learned he had died of a heart attack. At his funeral, his lawyer revealed Sloan left her his house, but only if she cared for an elderly woman, Rose. Reluctantly, Linda agreed, needing Sloan’s rose garden to save her business.
Rose’s constant demands—steamed broccoli, peeled tomatoes, midnight errands—tested Linda’s patience. In Sloan’s garage, Linda found a photo of a young Rose, resembling her, with a baby and Sloan, dated 1985. Rose revealed she and Sloan were the parents, and Linda was their daughter, given up for adoption. Sloan had watched Linda, unable to confess. A letter from him begged forgiveness. Overwhelmed, Linda learned Rose was her mother. Though forgiveness was hard, they vowed to try, finding solace in their shared past. Outside, the roses endured, mirroring their resilience.
