My Stepmom Wanted Me to Stop Wearing the Pendant My Late Mother Gave Me Because It Was Cheap – But Karma Had Other Plans
My name’s Lily, and I’m 16. When I was ten, cancer took my mother, Nora, piece by piece. She was gentle, full of love, and left me a silver locket with a tiny photo and the words: “Carry me into your tomorrows.” I wore it every day, a piece of her I could hold onto.
Two years later, Dad remarried Helen. At first, she seemed kind, but soon her charm slipped. She mocked Mom, me, and especially my locket. Her mother, Karen, joined in. Together, they made our home a place of quiet torment.
On Dad’s birthday, they attacked me in front of our guests. But this time, Dad heard everything. He stormed in, fury blazing:
“Don’t ever speak Nora’s name like that again. Get out.”
Helen and Karen left, stunned. Dad knelt beside me. “I should’ve listened sooner. This will never happen again.”
For the first time in years, I wore my locket openly. I had my voice back—and Mom’s light was still with me.
