On her seventy-eighth birthday, Alice spent the afternoon preparing a warm dinner and setting the table with her favorite tulip cloth, hoping her grown children would celebrate with her like they used to. When they arrived, they barely noticed the effort. Their phones, complaints, and casual questions about her house and future mattered more than her birthday. They ate quickly, made excuses, and left early, leaving Alice in a quiet room filled with melted candles and forgotten wishes.

The next morning, Alice made a bold decision. She hinted to each child that she had discovered a surprising amount of money and was updating her will. Suddenly, her house was full again — groceries delivered, flowers brought, warm smiles returning. For the first time in years, her children acted like they cared.

A week later, Alice invited them to dinner. With a calm voice and steady heart, she announced she would leave everything to a man named Harry — someone who had showed her kindness without expecting anything in return. Shock and guilt spread across the table as she gently reminded her children what love and respect are supposed to look like.

When they left in silence, Harry revealed he was simply helping Alice with a plan to teach her family a lesson. Alice smiled, content. She didn’t need a fortune — she just needed to feel valued. And now, her children finally understood what they had been taking for granted.