My stepfather disappeared the day my mom died. No calls. No letters. Nothing. It was like I didn’t exist anymore. If it hadn’t been for my grandmother, I don’t know where I would’ve ended up. She took me in without a second thought—gave me love, stability, and everything my mom would have wanted for me.

But even with all that kindness, I still couldn’t stop wondering why he left me like I was nothing.

I spent years trying to push those questions down—until the day he showed up at my dorm.

I almost didn’t recognize him at first. His hair was thinner, his face more lined, but that smooth voice was the same. He smiled like no time had passed.

“I’ve missed you, kid.”

For a second—just one stupid second—I let myself believe him.

He took me to the fancy restaurant I’d always dreamed of going to as a kid, the kind of place we could never afford. He ordered everything I wanted, laughed at my jokes, and made me feel like a little girl again—like maybe he regretted leaving me behind.

But then, halfway through dessert, his face changed.

Serious. Cold.

“Listen, I need your help,” he said, leaning in close. “I need money. Just… talk to your grandmother. She’d do anything for you.”

It felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. All that warmth, all those smiles—it was all an act. He hadn’t come back for me. He’d come back for **her**.

I should’ve walked away right then and there. But some part of me—some broken little piece—still wanted to believe he cared.

So I went to my grandmother.

I told her everything. Every word he’d said. I expected her to be angry or sad… but she just smiled.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she said softly. “We’ll help him.”

I couldn’t believe it.

A week later, my grandmother handed me an envelope full of cash and told me to give it to him. When I met him at the same restaurant, his eyes practically lit up when he saw the money. He snatched it from my hands without even saying thank you.

I watched him walk away—no hug, no promises to stay in touch. Just gone again.

But what he didn’t know was that the money in that envelope? Every single bill was fake.

Grandma had been trickier than both of us.

I never heard from him again.