At my grandmother’s funeral, I watched my mother secretly slip a small package into the casket.

Afterward, I retrieved it out of curiosity, uncovering a series of letters that would reveal painful family secrets.

My grandmother, Catherine, had been my closest friend, and losing her felt like losing a piece of myself. During the funeral, I noticed my mother, Victoria, acting strangely—especially when she covertly placed something in the casket. Their relationship had been distant for years, and I found it odd that my grandmother would have asked for something to be placed there without me knowing.

That evening, after the funeral, I opened the package. Inside were several letters, all written by my grandmother to my mother. The letters detailed how Victoria had been stealing money from her, feeding a gambling addiction, and repeatedly lying about it. The final letter was a heartbreaking confession that my grandmother had disinherited my mother, leaving everything to me.

My stomach churned as I read them. Then, I found one last letter from my mother, written just days before Grandma’s death. It admitted everything, but also tried to manipulate me, claiming I would give her the inheritance because she was my mother.

The next day, I invited my mother to a coffee shop, handed her the letters, and told her I could never trust her again. As she read the letters, her face drained of color. I left, knowing the truth had finally come to light.

Some lies can never stay buried, and some relationships are too broken to repair.