Tom, 17, lived quietly with his grandmother in a neat Oregon suburb. He kept to himself—no friends, no clubs, just silence. Kids invited him to play baseball, and though he never joined, he sometimes almost smiled. Then one day, Mrs. Langford vanished. No more gardening. No more porch humming. Just Tom coming home late—and a shiny new BMW in the driveway. Neighbors grew suspicious, spreading dark rumors.
But three boys—Carter, Leo, and Max—weren’t convinced. One evening, they stood in the road as Tom drove up. He invited them in. Nervously, they accepted. He took them to a senior living center, where they found Mrs. Langford, alive and well, knitting in a sunny corner. “She’s not my grandma by blood,” Tom explained. “She raised me.
