After Grandma “Mama E” passed, my brother and I vowed to fulfill her dying wish: sell her house and use the money to start an animal shelter. Then Aunt Sheryl returned—frail, weeping, claiming late-stage cancer and nowhere to go. Out of guilt and family loyalty, we gave her the house, no questions asked.One week later, we saw her strutting out of a boutique, laughing into her phone about conning us. The “cancer”? Fake. The house? Sold for cash. And the red Tesla in the parking lot? Hers.We didn’t sue. We plotted.

I made flyers announcing “Aunt Sheryl’s Shelter for Sick Pets,” complete with her photo and a heart-tugging story. We mailed them everywhere. Her phone exploded. She denied it online. We smiled.

Then karma took over. The buyer of her house sued for hidden foundation issues. Her sketchy ex came looking for his share. The Tesla vanished. So did she.We used our legal fund to start “Mama E’s Hope House” for senior dogs. It’s small, but growing.And every time someone asks about Mama E, I smile and say, she believed what goes around comes around. And she was right.