Agnes wandered through the corridors of the old family mansion, her laughter echoing in every nook as she nurtured her four children in a home brimming with warmth and vitality. That was many years ago. The mansion was constructed by her late husband, Henry, a lively entrepreneur who had completely fallen for a spirited young woman he encountered at a charity gala. Those who visited during that time often remarked that their relationship resembled a scene from a timeless romance story: Henry, with his tall stature and big heart, always wore a smile, while Agnes was the caring, nurturing presence that kept him steady.

The grand mansion was alive with joy and the laughter of children—four in total: three sons named Luke, Mark, and Adam, along with their sister, Harriet. Amid the joyful squeals of the children, Henry’s hearty laughter, and Agnes’s soft reprimands whenever Henry pushed the teasing a bit too far at bedtime, the house seldom experienced a moment of peace. The tall ceilings, intricate staircases, and spacious rooms resonated with a sense of warmth. As neighbors strolled by, they would catch the enchanting notes of piano music floating through the open windows, mingling with the delightful aroma of fresh bread coming from the kitchen.

However, life doesn’t always play out like a fairy tale. Throughout their thirty-five years of marriage, Agnes and Henry faced numerous challenges—business hardships, family disagreements, and the everyday fatigue that comes with raising four children. They still found a way to fill their home with love and light. Henry dreamed of helping every child discover their own way without any concerns. He often remarked, “I built this house for you, Agnes, so we could fill it with joyful memories.” She truly believed every word. Then, in an instant, Henry became seriously unwell. After months of hospital visits and hope worn thin by bleak test results, Henry passed away in Agnes’s arms in an upstairs bedroom. The children—many of whom were away at college or just starting their jobs—came back in large numbers to grieve alongside her.

After Henry passed away, the family’s financial situation grew increasingly unstable. Agnes found out that Henry had spent a large portion of their savings on expanding his business and keeping up with the mansion’s upkeep. Agnes felt a wave of anxiety wash over her as she pondered how she would manage to keep everything running without a steady job of her own. Yet she continued forward. She picked up various odd jobs, cut back on her expenses, and invested every bit of her limited resources into her children’s college funds and their professional aspirations. She accepted the sacrifice with quiet resignation. Her only wish was for her sons and daughter to thrive.

Time went by. Harriet, the sole daughter, displayed a keen interest in science from an early age, often found absorbed in her biology or chemistry kits. At the age of eighteen, she set off from home, fueled by her ambition to become a medical researcher. In the meantime, the three brothers—Luke, Mark, and Adam—set off on their individual paths, building careers that, at first glance, seemed to indicate they were each thriving in their own unique ways. Over the years, each person discovered their own fortune, whether by building successful businesses or securing high-level positions. Agnes watched from a distance, a swell of pride in her chest, yet her heart ached with a sense of loneliness in that vast mansion. The absence of Henry and the kids made the halls feel eerily quiet. Despite everything, she persevered, finding solace in the thought that her children were leaving their imprint on the world.

It was only a matter of time before Luke, Mark, and Adam joined forces to convince Agnes that the mansion had turned into a burden. The upkeep of the property was costly—between repairs, taxes, and insurance, it added up quickly. They were adamant that selling was the way to go. At that point, Harriet was working abroad, moving between distant research centers. She didn’t come home often, but she made sure to stay connected through phone calls. Agnes, despite her hesitations, finally consented to talk about it. She felt a strong connection to the house, the last living tribute to Henry and the place where her children had spent their childhood. She explained to them that if they could just be a little patient, maybe they could all enjoy the place together or figure out a way to keep it within the family.

However, her three sons had different ideas. Luke contended that he and his brothers required urgent funding for their new projects. Mark was adamant that the house was too much for an elderly woman who seemed to wander aimlessly through its many rooms. Adam, being the oldest, was the most persistent, labeling it “a worthless old relic.” He and the others wore Agnes down with countless discussions, ultimately persuading her to sign some papers “just to get an appraisal.” Feeling overwhelmed, she placed her trust in them. Harriet was the only one missing, occupied with dealing with a global virus outbreak. She was completely unaware that her brothers were getting ready to sell the family legacy.

On the day the house sold, Agnes felt completely caught off guard. She found out that not only had they secured a buyer, but they had also finalized the deal, and the new owners were ready to move in within days. Her initial shock quickly morphed into horror as her sons disclosed that they had each pocketed a portion of the profits, splurging on beautiful modern homes for themselves, while leaving her with only a tiny fraction. That amount just wasn’t sufficient for a decent apartment, much less for another property. To them, she was merely an elderly woman capable of handling her own affairs.

“Wait,” she begged, her voice shaking. “Where should I go?”Luke shrugged dismissively. “Mom, you’ve got this.” You really do it every time. Perhaps consider a cozy condo. Consider joining a program for seniors. “We can’t keep covering for you indefinitely,” Mark said. “It’s not as if you’ll end up homeless.” “You’re smart; you’ll come up with something,” Adam said, his expression unyielding. “We’re done waiting.” We really needed this money. “Thanks for cooperating.” They congratulated themselves for finally “liberating the old relic,” completely overlooking Agnes’s tears. The betrayal hurt more than any sorrow she had ever experienced.

In just a matter of days, she found herself having to collect her few possessions. She realized that the amount her sons had given her fell short of what she needed for a deposit on a trailer, much less a small house. Efforts to persuade them to consider a different arrangement were met with icy replies or silence on the other end of the line. Harriet was the only person who might have cared, but she was stuck in some disease-ridden part of the world, often out of cell phone range. With no other options available, Agnes found herself living in Henry’s oldest car, which she had somehow managed to hold onto. She parked it close to a rough area of the city, where tents and homeless encampments were scattered around. Even with her relentless attempts to uphold cleanliness and dignity, she remained just another face among the unhoused.

Every night, she curled up in the back seat, her legs awkwardly folded to make room. She’d whisper to the memory of Henry, “Oh Henry, I wish you were here.” If only you could witness the changes in our children—Luke, Mark, and Adam have all distanced themselves from me. How did we end up raising them to be so indifferent?She cried quietly. There were days when she thought about throwing in the towel for good. Every morning, she told herself to keep pushing forward, holding onto the hope that Harriet might come back one day. Harriet, the light of her life, could return, and perhaps there’s a chance to piece together what remains of her existence.

Weeks seemed to stretch endlessly. Agnes discovered little tricks to get by. She would take a shower at a local shelter and search for leftover bread from a nearby bakery that occasionally discarded day-old loaves. She continued to stand her ground, refusing to plead. Her naturally warm and friendly spirit helped her connect with other homeless individuals in the area. They exchanged advice and pooled their limited resources. On certain nights, they would huddle around a flickering barrel fire, seeking warmth as they shared stories that intertwined heartbreak with resilience.

Yet, beneath the surface, Agnes carried a lingering pain. She longed for the spacious, sun-drenched rooms of the mansion, the lovingly maintained garden, and the recollection of Henry leading her through every hallway. She longed for her own kitchen, even if it was a bit old-fashioned, because it had been the backdrop for countless family meals. She longed for her old routine. Above all, she longed for Harriet, who was miles away, dedicating herself to saving the lives of others, completely unaware that her own mother had lost everything.

On the last day of the third week, as Agnes slumped in her worn-out car seat, the soft ring of her phone caught her off guard. She almost leaped out of her skin—calls were a rare occurrence since the only ones who had her number were her sons (who never bothered) and Harriet. In a rush, she snatched up the phone, bracing herself for the possibility of a wrong number or a pesky telemarketer on the other end. Instead, she caught the sound of Harriet’s familiar voice crackling through. “Mom?” It’s me! How are you doing? I just received a call from Mr. Simmons, our neighbor. He shared it all with me. Are you really living in Dad’s old car?”

Agnes felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over her, something she couldn’t quite put into words. Her voice trembled as she cried into the phone. “Harriet… oh Harriet, I’ve missed you dearly!” Absolutely, that’s correct. The house has been sold. They took away nearly everything I had. I really didn’t want to trouble you. I understand that you have a lot on your plate with your research.

Harriet’s voice trembled with indignation. “I just can’t believe what they did, Mom.” I’m currently on a plane, or I’ll be boarding one shortly. Stay right there, don’t fret, I’ll be there soon. “Hang on.” Agnes felt her tears flowing freely as Harriet reassured her, “I’ll fix everything, Mom.” I swear to you. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it earlier.” The call wrapped up with Harriet promising to arrive within a day. Agnes held the phone tightly, tears streaming down her face. Relief battled against bitterness, but at least Harriet was on her way.

Sure enough, Harriet showed up the next afternoon, bustling with energy as she pulled into the empty parking lot by the park in a rental car. She stepped out in a sharp suit, clearly embodying the essence of a refined professional, her face radiating the glow of success. But the moment she saw her mother, her eyes sparkled with pure, childlike joy. “Mom!”Harriet burst into tears, hurrying ahead. They held each other tightly, tears welling up in Harriet’s eyes as she noticed just how fragile Agnes had grown. “I’m here now,” Harriet said, her voice trembling with tears. “It’s going to be okay.” Agnes held her daughter tightly, feeling the deep longing she had for real family affection.

They headed to a simple motel that Harriet had reserved close by, allowing Agnes to finally get a good night’s sleep after weeks of restless nights. Harriet was determined to hear every single detail about how her brothers had pulled one over on Agnes. She listened, her anger building with each passing moment. “I just can’t believe them,” Harriet muttered, frustration evident in her voice. “They always talk about being a family, but the second money came into play, they turned their backs on you.” Agnes nodded, her expression heavy with sorrow. Harriet grasped her mother’s hands gently. “Mom, I’ve done well in my career and managed to save quite a bit.” We’re going to make this right. If it comes down to it, I won’t hesitate to take them to court. “I already have a plan, though,” Agnes said, glancing at Harriet with a curious expression.

The following day, Harriet managed to persuade her mother to get into the car, keeping the destination a secret. After a winding drive, they came to a stop in front of a familiar sight—though Agnes nearly didn’t recognize it. The old Roy Mansion, the place she cherished, stood tall behind its locked gates. From afar, it appeared unchanged, though it clearly showed signs of neglect. Agnes found herself on the verge of tears once more. “What brings us to this moment?” It has been sold. “The new owners have to be in there.”

Harriet softly intertwined her arm with Agnes’s. “Yes, it has been sold.” “But then it was sold again—to me.” Agnes blinked, taken aback. “Wait— you actually bought it?”Harriet gave a calm nod. “I dipped into my savings to buy the mansion back, using a different name.” As soon as I found out what had happened, I got in touch with the new owners. They had already been grumbling about taxes and upkeep. They were glad to make the sale.