My Sassy Stepmom and Her 4 Adult Kids Wore All White to My Dad’s Funeral – Everyone Gasped When She Took Out a Letter

I expected my father’s funeral to be a day of quiet mourning, a time to honor the man who had held our family together. What I didn’t expect was my stepmom turning it into her personal drama — until a letter from my dad revealed secrets that left her and her kids humiliated in front of everyone.

The day of my dad’s funeral was already one of the hardest days of my life. I’d barely managed to keep myself from breaking down that morning, knowing I was about to say goodbye to the man who had held our family together.

Emotional woman at her dad's funeral | Source: Midjourney

Emotional woman at her dad’s funeral | Source: Midjourney

He’d been sick for a long time, and while we all saw this day coming, nothing prepared me for the suffocating weight of it when it finally arrived.

And then they showed up.

Vivian, my stepmom, waltzed in like she was on a runway, her four adult kids trailing behind her, all dressed in white. Stark, glaring white — like they’d gotten lost on the way to a fancy yacht party.

Everyone else was draped in black, heads bowed, grieving. But not them. No, they strutted in like they were attending some exclusive event, turning heads for all the wrong reasons.

Senior woman and her children wearing white at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman and her children wearing white at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My chest tightened with anger as I pushed through the crowd and made a beeline for her.

“Vivian,” I snapped, my voice low but sharp enough to cut through the soft murmurs around us, “what the hell are you doing? Why are you dressed like—” I gestured wildly at her flowing white dress and her kids’ matching outfits, “—like this at my dad’s funeral?”

She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she gave me this lazy, condescending smile that only made my blood boil more.

Senior woman and young lady talking at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman and young lady talking at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, dragging out the words like I was a child throwing a tantrum. “Don’t get all worked up. Your father wanted this.”

“Wanted this?” I repeated, my voice rising despite my best efforts to stay calm. “There’s no way Dad would’ve—”

She cut me off, reaching into her designer handbag and pulling out a neatly folded envelope. “He wrote me a letter,” she said, holding it out as if it explained everything. “Told me, ‘Vivian, you and the kids are to wear white. It’s my last wish.’”

Senior woman holding an envelope | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman holding an envelope | Source: Midjourney

I stared at the letter in her hand, feeling the eyes of everyone around us. Whispers were already starting to spread through the crowd.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “There’s no way he—”

“He did, darling,” she interrupted with a sigh, her eyes gleaming as though she was enjoying the scene. “He told me it was going to be something special. You should be grateful we’re honoring his wishes.”

I could hear people gasping behind me, the tension in the room rising with every passing second.

“Are you serious?” I demanded, my voice trembling now. “You really expect me to believe Dad wanted this — to turn his funeral into some… spectacle?”

Senior woman and young lady talking at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman and young lady talking at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Vivian shrugged, tucking the letter back into her bag. “Believe whatever you want,” she said coolly, “but we’re just following his final instructions. It’s what he wanted.”

I could feel my hands shaking, the rage bubbling up inside me, but before I could say another word, she turned to her kids and said, “Come on, let’s go take our seats. We don’t want to be late.”

I stood there, speechless, as they sauntered toward the front row, leaving me to simmer in a storm of confusion and fury.

Sad young lady at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Sad young lady at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

The ceremony began, and sure enough, she and her kids took their place in the front row, dressed like they were VIPs at some fancy gala. They soaked in the attention, their white clothes practically glowing against the backdrop of mourners in black.

Just when I thought I couldn’t handle their arrogance anymore, Joe, my dad’s best friend, stepped up to the front. His face was tight with emotion, eyes heavy with grief, but there was something else there too — a tension that made my stomach twist.

Senior man giving a speech at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Senior man giving a speech at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

He cleared his throat, the room going completely silent as everyone turned their gaze toward him. In his hand, he held a letter.

“Vivian,” he said, his voice firm but calm. He gestured for her to stand, and I could see the tiniest hint of a smirk play on her lips. She rose slowly, her chin lifted like she was about to accept an award. Her kids followed, standing beside her with smug looks of their own.

“This letter…” Joe began, his voice wavering just slightly, “was written by your husband.”

Joe’s voice was steady as he began to read from the letter, and the entire room seemed to hold its breath.

Senior man reading a letter at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Senior man reading a letter at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

“To my dearest friends and family,” Joe read, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to thank you all for being here today, for honoring my memory. There’s something I need to address, something that’s been weighing on my heart.”

I glanced at Vivian. Her expression, once smug and superior, began to shift. A flicker of unease crept into her eyes as she straightened, her gaze darting nervously around the room.

Senior woman wearing a white dress at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman wearing a white dress at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Joe continued, “I couldn’t help but notice that during my illness, my ex-wife, Martha, was the one who took care of me. She was there when I needed someone the most, while Vivian and her kids were always absent — unless, of course, they needed something from me.”

Vivian’s face drained of color. She stood rigidly, frozen as if willing herself to disappear.

Her kids, who had been sitting confidently, were now nervous, their eyes wide with fear.

Young adults wearing white at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Young adults wearing white at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Murmurs rippled through the crowd like a wave, and I could see people exchanging shocked glances.

“That’s not true!” Vivian suddenly hissed under her breath, but her voice cracked, betraying her fear.

Joe barely paused. “It became clear to me that my new family was more interested in what I could provide than in who I was. And then,” he glanced pointedly at Vivian, “I found out, through my financial adviser, that money had been disappearing from my accounts. We investigated and discovered that Vivian and her children were behind it.”

Senior man reading a letter at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Senior man reading a letter at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

A collective gasp filled the room. It felt like the walls themselves shuddered with the sound. Vivian’s kids, who had been sitting so confidently, now looked as pale as ghosts, as the eyes of every guest bore down on them.

Vivian’s face contorted in anger, her mask of calm shattering completely. “This is a lie!” she yelled, her voice trembling with fury. “A complete fabrication! You can’t believe this garbage!”

Her hands clenched into fists as she looked wildly around the room as if searching for someone to step in and defend her.

But no one spoke. The silence was deafening.

Joe’s gaze didn’t waver. He raised the letter again and continued, his voice unwavering.

Senior man reading a letter at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Senior man reading a letter at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

“I knew they would come to my funeral, expecting to play the role of the grieving family. So, I asked them to wear white. I wanted them to stand out, so everyone could see them for what they are.”

Vivian gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You bastard,” she spat, her voice shaking with venomous rage. “You think you can humiliate me in front of everyone like this? You’ll regret this! You all will!”

But Joe didn’t stop. His voice rang out loud and clear, cutting through her rage like a blade. “Vivian, you and your children are no longer welcome here. This is a place for those who loved me for who I was, not for what I could give them. Please leave, and let my true family and friends mourn in peace.”

Senior man reading a letter at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Senior man reading a letter at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

The silence was suffocating. Every eye in the room was fixed on Vivian and her kids, waiting for their next move. Her face was a chaotic swirl of emotions — shock, rage, humiliation. For a split second, it seemed like she might explode, her eyes wild with fury.

But then, she glanced around and saw the faces of the guests — cold, unforgiving glares. The weight of judgment pressed down on her, and whatever fight she had left in her fizzled out.

Crowd at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Crowd at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Her kids, once so full of smug confidence, shrank under the scrutiny, their eyes fixed on the floor as if they could disappear into it.

Vivian huffed loudly, her lips curling in disgust. “Fine! This whole thing is a farce anyway,” she spat, yanking her purse from the chair. Her voice dripped with venom, but everyone could see she was cornered. Defeated. “Come on,” she snapped at her kids, her voice sharp as broken glass.

Vivian stormed toward the exit, her heels clicking against the floor with a fury that couldn’t hide her humiliation.

She was finished, and she knew it.

Senior woman walking out of a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman walking out of a funeral | Source: Midjourney

The door slammed shut behind them, leaving a thick silence in their wake. No one moved for a long moment, as if the room was exhaling after the storm.

Joe calmly folded the letter, his eyes scanning the room with a somber expression. “Now,” he said, his voice steady, “let’s continue with remembering the man who truly deserves to be honored today.”

Senior man giving a speech at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

Senior man giving a speech at a funeral | Source: Midjourney

And so we did. The ceremony went on peacefully, a celebration of my dad’s life surrounded by the people who had loved him for who he was. We laughed, we cried, and we shared stories that captured the essence of the man who had brought us all together.

As for Vivian? She got exactly what she deserved — an exit cloaked in shame and disgrace. My dad, even in death, had the last laugh. He had exposed them, stripped away their pretenses, and made sure the truth came out in the end.

Close-up shot of a casket | Source: Midjourney

Close-up shot of a casket | Source: Midjourney

My dad may have been gone, but his wisdom — his sense of justice — was alive and well. And as I listened to Joe recount a funny story about my dad, one thing was clear.

“Dad always knew how to pick his moments,” I whispered.

Younng lady at her father's funeral | Source: Midjourney

Younng lady at her father’s funeral | Source: Midjourney

Mother of the Groom Hires an Unknown Actress to Sabotage the Wedding, but Plans Spiral Out of Control – Story of the Day

A struggling actress takes an unusual job after being hired by a wealthy man’s mother to pose as his girlfriend and sabotage his upcoming wedding. But as she spends more time with him and his fiancée, she questions her actions and the price of her desperation. What will she choose?

Miranda stepped out of the dim audition room, her chest heavy with frustration. The casting director’s parting words, “You’re not interesting enough,” stung more than she wanted to admit.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

With her wallet almost empty, taking a taxi home wasn’t an option, so she trudged along the busy sidewalk, her thoughts clouded with doubt and discouragement.

As she neared a small corner store, a bulletin board tacked outside caught her eye. Among the cluttered ads and flyers, one stood out.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She stepped closer to read the hastily written note: “Looking for a woman to pretend to be my son’s girlfriend. Will pay well.” Beneath the bold letters was a single phone number. No name, no explanation.

Miranda shook her head and chuckled to herself. “People are wild,” she muttered, brushing it off as she entered the store.

At the register, reality hit her hard. The little she could afford—pasta, cheese, and toilet paper—barely filled a small bag.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The notice snagged her attention again as she was heading back. Staring at her meager groceries, she sighed, pulled out her phone, and dialed the number.

“Hello, I saw your ad—” Miranda began, gripping her phone tightly.

A sharp voice cut her off. “Meet me at 7:00 p.m. at Bella Luna. Dinner’s on me.”

Miranda blinked in surprise. “Wait, what—”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The line went dead. She stared at her phone. No name. No details. Just instructions. It felt strange, but with her bills piling up, she didn’t have the luxury to ignore it.

At 7:00 p.m., Miranda entered the restaurant, her stomach fluttering. She scanned the room, unsure who she was meeting.

A middle-aged woman in a tailored suit approached her, her steps confident.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Are you the one who called about the ad?” the woman asked, her tone brisk.

“Yes, I’m Miranda,” she replied, offering a polite smile.

“Leslie,” the woman said, gesturing toward a nearby table. “Follow me.”

Once seated, Leslie leaned forward. “Do you have experience with this sort of thing?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Miranda hesitated. “Not exactly. I’ve never pretended to be someone’s girlfriend before,” she admitted. “But I’m an actress. I think I can do it.”

Leslie nodded, her expression unreadable. “Good enough,” she said. “Here’s the deal. My son is getting married in a month. I need you to make him fall for you and ruin the wedding.”

Miranda’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me? Your ad said to pretend to be his girlfriend. It didn’t say anything about ruining relationships.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m not stupid enough to write that in an ad,” Leslie said, her voice sharp. “His fiancée isn’t good enough for him. She’s only after his money. You’d be helping him, really.”

Miranda pushed her chair back. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry,” she said, preparing to leave.

“Ten thousand,” Leslie said suddenly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What?” Miranda froze.

“Ten thousand dollars if you break up the wedding. Two thousand if you try but fail. That should motivate you,” Leslie explained, her eyes fixed on Miranda.

Miranda’s breath caught. Ten thousand dollars. Two thousand, even. Her landlord’s threats echoed in her head. She needed the money.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Honey, I don’t have all day,” Leslie snapped.

Miranda swallowed hard. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Good. But don’t slack off. If you do, you get nothing,” Leslie warned, extending her hand.

With a deep sigh, Miranda shook it.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Leslie had it all mapped out, and Miranda followed the plan step by step. Leslie’s son, Jack, was hiring an assistant for his company, so Leslie helped Miranda put together an impressive résumé.

It was polished to perfection, making Miranda seem like the ideal candidate. Jack didn’t hesitate—she got the job almost immediately.

But getting the job was the easy part. The hard part was getting Jack to notice her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Miranda tried everything Leslie suggested. She wore short skirts and fitted blouses, hoping to catch his eye.

Yet, Jack seemed uninterested. His focus was always on work.

Frustrated, Miranda decided to try something different. She began staying late at the office, waiting for moments when it was just the two of them.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

One evening, Jack looked up from his desk and frowned. “You don’t have to stay just because I’m still here,” he said, his tone gentle but firm.

Miranda forced a smile. “I enjoy your company,” she replied, sitting across from him and pretending to organize files.

Over the next two weeks, something shifted. Jack began having longer conversations with Miranda, talking about his life, his goals, and even his favorite movies.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Yet, the more time Miranda spent with Jack, the harder her task became. She had met Katie, his fiancée, the woman Leslie despised.

Katie wasn’t what Miranda expected. She was kind, thoughtful, and genuinely sweet.

She brought homemade cookies to the office, reminded Jack to eat, and calmed him with a soothing word when he was stressed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

One day, Miranda watched as Katie laughed over an origami crane Jack had made for her.

The love between them was undeniable. Leslie’s claims about Katie being a gold-digger felt harder to believe.

Still, Miranda couldn’t back out. Her landlord had already warned her about overdue rent, and the clock was ticking. Desperation outweighed her growing guilt.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

One evening, as Miranda stayed late at the office with Jack, her phone buzzed. She sighed, seeing Leslie’s name on the screen. Reluctantly, she answered.

“What’s taking so long?” Leslie demanded. “The wedding is in a week, and he’s still with Katie!”

“I’m working on it,” Miranda replied quietly, glancing at Jack, who was seated nearby, engrossed in his laptop.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“There’s no time left. You need to sleep with him,” Leslie snapped.

“What?! We never agreed to that!” Miranda exclaimed, her voice rising slightly.

“Then fake it,” Leslie said coldly. “Make it look like you did and send me photos. I’m done waiting.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Before Miranda could respond, the line went dead. She stared at the phone, her stomach twisting.

Slowly, she walked back to Jack and sat next to him on the couch, closer than she ever had before.

“Tired?” she asked, her voice softer than usual.

Jack glanced up briefly. “Yeah, a little,” he admitted.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Miranda hesitated, then placed her hand on his arm. “Maybe we could go to a bar. Unwind a little?”

Jack shook his head. “I can’t. Katie made dinner. She’ll already be upset that I’m late.”

“Does it really matter?” Miranda asked, leaning in slightly. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Before Jack could respond, the elevator doors opened. Startled, Miranda pulled back. The sound of heels echoed as Katie appeared carrying two lunchboxes.

“I thought I’d bring dinner since you’re working late,” Katie said, smiling. She handed one box to Jack and turned to Miranda. “I brought some for you, too. You shouldn’t go hungry.”

Miranda stared at Katie, her heart sinking. Without thinking, she blurted, “I can’t do this anymore!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What are you talking about?” Jack asked, confused.

Miranda took a deep breath. “I’m an actress. I was hired to ruin your wedding. Leslie wanted me to make you fall for me. I needed the money, so I said yes. I’m sorry.”

Jack and Katie listened in stunned silence.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m so sorry,” Miranda said again, her voice breaking. “I’m a horrible person.”

“No, you’re just someone in a desperate situation,” Katie said, taking Miranda’s hand.

Miranda shook her head. “Who are you? I just admitted I was trying to steal your fiancé, and you’re comforting me?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Katie smiled gently. “I know Jack loves me. You wouldn’t have succeeded.”

Jack frowned with a hard expression. “I don’t want my mom to get away with this. Will you help us?”

“It’s the least I can do,” Miranda agreed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

They carried out Jack’s plan with careful precision. Fake photos of Miranda and Jack in intimate moments were sent to Leslie.

Her response came quickly—she was excited and praised Miranda, convinced the wedding was ruined.

Meanwhile, Miranda saved screenshots of Leslie’s incriminating messages, knowing they would be crucial.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

At Jack and Katie’s rehearsal dinner, Miranda stood before the gathered guests, her heart pounding.

One by one, the photos, the messages, and even the ad that had first brought her into their lives appeared on the screen.

The room fell silent, then erupted in hushed whispers. Guests exchanged shocked glances, their disbelief palpable.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“This is all lies! I can explain!” Leslie shouted, her face red with anger.

Jack’s expression remained cold as he stepped forward. “Thanks, Mom, but Miranda already explained everything. We know the truth.”

Leslie’s voice rose in desperation. “I only wanted better for you! That woman doesn’t deserve you! She’s not good enough!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jack said firmly. “I’ll never forgive you for trying to ruin that. Now leave. Don’t come back into our lives.”

Leslie’s mouth opened to protest. “But—”

“Leave now,” Jack interrupted, his tone sharp. “Or I’ll call security.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Leslie’s face twisted in frustration. She grabbed her bag, muttering under her breath, and stormed out, her heels clicking loudly against the floor.

As the room settled, Miranda quietly gathered her things, preparing to slip out unnoticed. Jack noticed and stopped her. “Wait,” he said.

Miranda looked up, hesitant. “What is it?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I spoke to a friend of mine. He has a role in a theater production. You’d be perfect for it,” Jack said.

Her face lit up briefly but quickly fell. “I can’t. I owe you too much already.”

“Stop,” Jack said firmly. “Actors like you are hard to find. You did spend a whole month pretending you enjoyed staying late at the office with me. And you’ll still get your paycheck for this month as my assistant.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Miranda shook her head. “I don’t deserve it. I nearly destroyed your lives.”

Katie stepped forward, her voice calm and kind. “If not for you, Leslie would still be trying to ruin our wedding.”

Miranda hesitated. Katie smiled and added, “Stay for dinner. You’re already here. I’ll be upset if you leave.”

Miranda’s eyes filled with gratitude as she hugged Katie tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Sarah’s life has always revolved around her family, but a devastating call from the hospital forced her to confront everything she had put on hold. As she rediscovers herself and begins living on her terms, a surprising twist changes everything, leading her to see life completely differently.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

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