My Stepmother and Her Daughters Kicked Me Out of the House after Hearing My Father Fell into a Coma — Karma Hit Them the Next Day

When my stepmother Brenda and her daughters kicked me out after hearing my father fell into a coma, I thought I had lost everything. Little did they know, karma was about to strike back in a way none of us could have predicted.

When Dad first brought Brenda and her daughters into our home, I knew things would change. And not for the better. He met Brenda at his weekly yoga class — he was concerned about his health and endeavored to exercise more.

He saw her as this kind-hearted woman who'd been through a lot. I saw right through her fake smiles and sweet talk. It started subtly. Brenda would make these passive-aggressive comments about my clothes or my grades, always in this sugar-coated voice.

Brittany and Chloe, her twin daughters, weren't any better. Blonde, blue-eyed, and mean to the bone. They'd wait until Dad was out of earshot to let their true colors show.

"Nice shirt, Leah. Did you find it in a dumpster?" Brittany smirked one afternoon.

"Yeah, it looks like it was made in the 90s," Chloe added, laughing.

I ignored them, mostly. But it was hard not to let it get to me. They were relentless. Every time I tried to tell Dad, Brenda would twist things around.

"Michael, Leah's just having a hard time adjusting. Teenagers, you know how they are," Brenda would say, her voice dripping with false concern.

Dad would just nod, looking at me with confusion and disappointment. "Leah, you've got to try harder to get along with them. Brenda's doing her best."

I wanted to scream. Instead, I just nodded and went to my room, slamming the door behind me. My sanctuary, the only place where I felt safe. I spent hours there, reading, listening to music, trying to escape.

One night, things got worse. I overheard Brenda talking to Dad in the living room.

"Michael, we need to talk about Leah. She's... difficult. The girls are scared of her. She's always so angry."

I pressed my ear against the door. Scared of me? That was rich.

"Leah's just... going through a lot," Dad said, his voice weary. "She misses her mom."

Brenda sighed dramatically. "I know, but we can't keep tiptoeing around her. It's affecting the whole family."

I couldn't listen anymore. I barged into the living room.

"Are you serious? You're lying to him, Brenda! You and your daughters are the problem, not me!"

Dad stood up, looking shocked. "Leah, calm down. We can talk about this."

"No, we can't," I snapped. "You never listen to me."

Brenda put on her best concerned face. "Leah, we're just trying to help you."

"Help me?" I laughed bitterly. "You're ruining everything."

The twins appeared at the top of the stairs, grinning like Cheshire cats. I turned on my heel and ran out the front door, needing to get away. I walked around the neighborhood, trying to cool off. By the time I got back, Dad was waiting for me on the porch.

"Love, we need to find a way to make this work," he said softly. "I love you, but I love Brenda too. We're a family now."

I looked at him, tears in my eyes. "Dad, they're awful to me. Can't you see that?"

He hugged me tightly. "I'll talk to them, I promise. Just try to be patient."

I nodded, but I knew it was hopeless. Brenda had him wrapped around her finger, and I was just the inconvenient obstacle.

***

The next few weeks were a blur of whispered insults, cold shoulders, and fake smiles. I counted down the days until I could escape to college, where I wouldn't have to deal with Brenda and her evil spawns.

Yet, something else gnawed at my heart. Dad's health had been shaky for a while. He complained about stomach pains that wouldn't go away, and the doctors finally decided he needed surgery.

It was supposed to be minor, but I was still scared. The thought of being left alone with Brenda and her daughters made my skin crawl.

"Dad, what if something happens to you? They'll kick me out," I said one night as we sat at the kitchen table. Brenda and the twins were out, probably terrorizing some mall.

He squeezed my hand. "Leah, you're worrying too much. Brenda cares about you. She wouldn't do that."

"Dad, you don't know them like I do," I insisted. "You've got to trust me."

He sighed, looking tired. "I do trust you, but Brenda... she seems genuine." I wanted to argue more, but I could see he was exhausted. I dropped it, knowing it wouldn't change anything.

The surgery day came quickly, and I stayed home, trying to distract myself. Brenda was at the hospital with him, but I knew it wasn't out of concern. She wanted to control everything.

Around noon, I heard Brenda's voice from the kitchen — she had come home as soon as Dad went into surgery. She was on the phone. Curious, I crept closer, staying out of sight.

"What do you mean, he's in a coma?" she said, her voice high-pitched but not shocked. I felt my heart plummet. "Yes, thank you, Doctor," I heard Brenda finish.

Suspecting drama, I quickly grabbed my phone and hit record, just as Brenda hung up. She called out to her daughters.

"Girls, come here! We're rid of Leah. Michael's in a coma!"

Brittany and Chloe came running, laughing. "Seriously? We can kick her out now?"

Brenda nodded, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Leah! Pack your things. You're out."

I stumbled into the kitchen, trying to keep my voice steady. "What? You can't do this."

"Oh, but I can," Brenda said, her smile cold. "Now get out."

I ran upstairs, throwing my belongings into a bag, my hands shaking. I couldn't believe this was happening. As I packed, I knew I had one chance to fight back. I had the recording. Maybe, just maybe, it could save me.

I spent the night at a friend's place, feeling utterly lost. The next morning, I went to the hospital to see Dad. To my shock, he was awake, sitting up in bed and looking tired but very much alive.

"Leah!" he said, smiling as I rushed to his side.

"Dad! You're okay!" I hugged him tightly, tears streaming down my face. "Brenda told me you were in a coma."

"What?" he looked confused. "The surgery went fine. There was a mix-up, but I'm okay. A nurse had incorrectly written on the patient sheet hanging on the bed that I was in a coma. I was merely sleeping off the anesthetic."

I pulled out my phone. "You need to hear this."

I played the recording for him, watching as his face changed from confusion to anger. "I can't believe this. We're going home, Leah. This ends now. I'll talk to the doctors and get my discharge sped up."

We drove back in silence, the tension palpable. As we pulled up to the house, Brenda, Brittany, and Chloe were on the porch, looking surprised. They had heard Dad had been let out of the hospital, but the last person they expected to show up was me.

"Where's Michael? And what are you doing here?" Brenda sneered. "You're not welcome."

"Actually, I am." I said, "Wait a minute." I went back into the garage and helped my dad from the car, stepping around the side of the house with him on my arm. The look on their faces was priceless.

"Michael!" Brenda gasped. "You're..."

"Alive and well," he said coldly. "Leah, play the recording."

I did, and the smug expressions disappeared as the recording played. Brenda's face turned white, as Brittany and Chloe stood frozen beside her.

"You've shown your true colors," Dad said, his voice shaking with anger. "I am the only one who can kick people out of this house. And, with that said, I'm kicking you out. All of you. Now."

Brenda tried to argue, but Dad held up a hand. "No more lies. No more manipulations. Get out."

They left, protesting and glaring, but there was no stopping them. We watched as they drove away, the tension finally lifting.

Inside, Dad hugged me tightly. "I'm so sorry, Leah. I should have believed you."

"It's okay, Dad," I said, feeling a sense of peace I hadn't felt in a long time. "We're together now. That's all that matters."

As we closed the door on our tumultuous past, I knew we were ready to rebuild our lives. Just the two of us, facing whatever came next, together.

If you enjoyed this story, here's another one for you about a stepfather who gave a woman an ultimatum to receive his wedding gift.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.