My Stepmom Threw Me Out with Nothing but My Dad’s Old Work Boots After His Death – She Had No Idea What He’d Secretly Glued Inside the Sole

She’d already scheduled the funeral by the time I got back.

“They say he died before he hit the ground.”

I’d spent the week at a friend’s apartment in the city. She’d let me stay there after a job interview — my third one in two months.

Since the layoffs at the architecture firm, I’d been living with my dad while trying to get back on my feet. Cheryl wasn’t exactly thrilled about that.

“I’m not running a halfway house, Ray,” she’d said.

My dad ignored her. He’d just looked at me and smiled.

Cheryl wasn’t exactly thrilled.

“You’re home, Ellie. That’s all that matters.”

But he wasn’t there anymore.

I came back early Wednesday morning.

Cheryl opened the door before I could even knock. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and her arms were crossed tight across her chest.

But he wasn’t there anymore.

Across the street, Mrs. Donnelly paused mid-walk with her little dog and stared. Cheryl didn’t look away. She lifted her chin like she wanted an audience. Mrs. Donnelly’s mouth tightened, and she kept walking — slow, watching.

“You came back,” she said flatly.

“I left a note on the fridge for Dad…”

“You were gone for three days,” she said, leaning against the frame.

“You came back.”

“For a job interview, Cheryl,” I said. “I’m sorry I didn’t text, but —”

“I thought you weren’t coming back, Eleanor.”

“My clothes are still inside. My laptop, too. I just need to grab a few things and then I’ll leave you alone.”

She exhaled slowly through her nose, like I’d asked for her diamonds.

“You can stay tonight,” she said. “Just for the funeral.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying long anyway.”