**Diary Entry**
Sometimes, you think a child’s love for their mother is unshakable—solid as stone. Then comes the day when even stone cracks under greed, circumstance, or cruel indifference. That’s exactly what happened in the family of Alice and James, where sickness began the story and betrayal ended it.
When their elderly mother, Margaret Petrovna, suffered a stroke, her children were the first she turned to. The eldest daughter, Alice, though settled with a stable job and a grown-up daughter, refused outright to take her in. “I’ve got a one-bed flat, no space, no time,” she said. “I can’t handle that kind of responsibility.”
So James, the younger son, stepped up without hesitation. He brought their mother into his two-bedroom house in Brighton. His wife, Emily, didn’t object—in fact, she helped as much as she could. At first, it was hard. Margaret could barely speak or move; she needed constant care. James suggested his sister split the cost of a carer, but Alice wouldn’t hear of it. “Sorry, Jim,” she said flatly. “Mortgage, debts, my daughter’s at uni—I can’t afford it.”
Emily stepped in. She quit her job and took over her mother-in-law’s care—bathing her, spoon-feeding her, changing sheets, administering injections. Slowly, thanks to her patience, Margaret recovered. She began speaking again, moving, even helping around the house. When the time came to discuss her returning home, she hesitated.
“James, love, I’d rather stay here,” she admitted. “It’s peaceful, the grandkids are near, and you and Emily—you’re like family.”
James and his wife exchanged a glance and agreed. Margaret’s empty flat in central London stayed untouched—she never pressed to sell it. Everything was fine… until James overheard her phone call with Alice.
“Darling, I’ve made up my mind,” Margaret murmured. “I’ll sell my flat, pay off the rest of your mortgage. You and little Sophie deserve some peace. Maybe there’ll even be enough left for a cottage—just for you two.”
The words cut James like a knife. *She gets everything?* After three years of doing nothing, while *he* and Emily had sacrificed so much? Where was the justice?
“Mum,” he confronted her that evening, “you know what we’ve given up—how many sleepless nights Emily’s had? And you’re handing it all to Alice, who wouldn’t even chip in for a carer?”
Margaret only sighed. “Jim, Alice has had it harder. You and Emily—you’re strong. You’ll manage.”
That was the final straw. That same night, in silence, James packed his mother’s things and drove them to Alice’s. He left the suitcases by the door, rang the bell, and left.
*If you want a share of the inheritance, you take a share of the responsibility too,* he texted his sister coldly.
The next morning, Emily wept quietly. She wasn’t angry like James—just heartbroken. Three years of love, of effort, repaid with nothing but indifference.
James doesn’t deny he acted harshly. But if fairness isn’t in his mother’s heart, perhaps his sister will learn it the hard way. He wonders—must a son always be patient, always give, when his sacrifices go unseen?
Some children love unconditionally—until they find out who gets the house.
**Lesson:** Loyalty shouldn’t have a price tag. If it does, you’re bargaining, not loving.
