My Stepchildren Couldn’t Wait for Me to Di:e, Wanted My Money, I Gave Them Something to Choke On

Margaret possessed the choice to abandon her husband's three children following his death. Instead, she chose to nurture them as her own, giving them all the care and support they needed.

Decades later, as Margaret faced serious health issues, she received cold indifference and betrayal instead of gratitude. Her stepchildren split her inheritance without waiting for her death. Margaret created a plan, and you cannot predict it.

Margaret's story unfolds below:

My name is Margaret. I am 63 years old now. I met my late husband when I was 38. He brought three children from his first marriage — ages 10, 12, and 14 at that time. We married for slightly more than one year before he died suddenly.

I had the chance to leave. No one would have judged me. I remained instead. I brought up his children as my own.

I covered their education, their orthodontics, their summer programs. I applauded at their ceremonies. I assisted them with their first vehicles, their first houses. I never bore children myself — they became my complete universe.

I never demanded anything back. I did not bring them up to feel indebted to me. I also did not anticipate their cruel behavior during my darkest moments.

Twenty-five years passed. My health declined. Doctors discovered a heart problem that would kill me without an operation. My children rarely came to see me.

Everything shifted temporarily when I first mentioned the inheritance. My stepchildren suddenly showed great interest. Phone calls, visits, small presents arrived. Initially, I found it touching.

One night, I heard a disturbing discussion. They sat in my living room, laughing while they talked about my 'final plans.' They had already chosen my burial location and gravestone.

They openly argued about who would get which part of my inheritance. My jewelry, house, and money. They acted like scavengers waiting.

They did not know I had stayed connected to my late husband's brother through all these years. Peter, called Uncle Peter, works as a top heart surgeon in the nation. After I told him what happened, he arranged my surgery. He charged nothing.

I decided against telling my stepchildren. I allowed them to continue their act of caring while they dropped hints about 'making peace,' secretly planning to split my inheritance. Then my 'death' occurred.

Peter helped me fake it. The hospital created the documents. My will was 'read' — though I had prepared a second version to stay hidden temporarily. The funeral was planned.

They came wearing black clothes, showing fake tears, probably already choosing what to sell first. The doors opened at that moment.

There I sat, completely alive, wheeled into the funeral parlor in a wheelchair, my heart beating stronger than before. The looks on their faces? Unforgettable.

I gave a brief speech. Nothing dramatic, simply the truth. I told them that after their birth mother left, I stayed. I sacrificed everything to give these children a wonderful life. They treated me like a bank account waiting to be emptied.

I then pulled out my updated will—the real one. I had donated everything, every dollar, to a children's shelter in the city.

"These children," I said, "understand what growing up without love or family means. They will not waste this gift."

"Stepmother Pretends to Die to Reveal Selfish Children"—headline news. My stepchildren became internet celebrities, but for terrible reasons.

What about me? I live, thrive, and feel truly liberated. I believe I gave them the most important lesson of their lives: cherish those who care for you and sacrifice everything for your happiness.