My grandma was the cheapest woman in the world. After she passed away, I inherited a $50 gift card.

I was going to give it away, but for some reason, I decided to use it. My life split into ‘before’ and ‘after’ that moment. The cashier’s face went pale when I handed her the card.

Cashier: ‘This can’t be, where did you get this??’
Me: ‘Uh… It was my grandma’s.’
Cashier: ‘STOP EVERYONE! IN FRONT OF US!’

The world seemed to freeze. Conversations halted, carts stopped rolling, and a heavy silence fell over the store. My heart started to pound in my chest. People around me stared, their expressions ranging from curious to confused. I gripped the counter, unsure whether to stay or bolt out the door.

The cashier motioned to her manager, who quickly made her way over. She whispered something to her, her eyes never leaving the gift card in my hand. The manager, a middle-aged woman with kind but sharp eyes, looked at the card and then at me.