Chapter 1 

I've been married for three years, but I've never once seen my husband's paycheck. 

Every expense had to go through an "approval process"—I had to ask my husband, who then had to get his mother's approval before I could get a single dollar. 

I complained to him more than once about how inconvenient it was not having money of my own. 

But he always had the same excuse: "Mom's just helping us save for the future." 

Then, one day, he got into a car crash—on his way to see his mistress. 

At the hospital, they told me he needed emergency surgery, but I just shrugged. 

"I don't have any money," I said.

"Guess he won't be getting treated." 

The moment those words left my mouth, I felt like a weight had lifted off my shoulders. 

-----

Just five minutes ago, I had called my mother-in-law in tears. 

"Mom, I need you to transfer me $6000 right now! It's urgent!" 

It was late at night, and I had woken her up.

Instead of asking what was wrong, she immediately started screaming at me. 

"Are you out of your damn mind?!"

"Just asking for $6000 like it's nothing?!"

"Do you think my son makes money that easily?"

"You don't earn a single penny, you've been married three years and haven't even given us a child, and now you have the nerve to ask me for money?!"

"Not a chance! Get lost!" 

I had her on speakerphone.

Every doctor and nurse in the room heard it loud and clear. 

Before I could say another word, she hung up—and blocked my number. 

I called my father-in-law next.

No answer. 

I turned to the doctors and nurses, giving them an apologetic look. 

"I'm sorry. I don't have any money."

"My husband won't be getting treated." 

A kindhearted nurse tried to step in and cover the cost for me. 

I quickly stopped her.

"I know you mean well, but I don't want to cause trouble for the hospital." 

After all, I had been waiting for this moment for a long time. 

For so-called "love," I quit my job, left my hometown, and became a housewife. 

I thought marriage would bring happiness. 

But the day my in-laws moved in, that illusion was shattered. 

On their very first day, they laid down the law. 

Andrew had to hand over his entire paycheck to his mom.

If I needed money, I had to submit a request to Andrew, who then had to get his mother's approval before I saw a single cent. 

I protested.

I complained.

Andrew sweet-talked me every time. 

"Mom's just trying to help us save money."

"You don't have a job, so I have to handle all the expenses."

"She's just looking out for us." 

"Think about it—once we've saved enough, we can buy a bigger house and bring your parents to live with us." 

I had never been in a relationship before.

Andrew was my first love.

I was naïve—I believed him. 

At first, my mother-in-law held back, pretending to be reasonable. 

Then, in our second year of marriage, when I still hadn't gotten pregnant, she showed her true colors. 

She forced me to drink all kinds of weird herbal concoctions, claiming they would help me conceive. 

When I refused, she threw ancient "women's duties" in my face. 

"You're unfilial!"

"You can't even give us a child!"

"If my son weren't such a kindhearted man, he would've divorced you already!" 

"Are you trying to end the Davis family bloodline?!" 

I cried to Andrew, hoping he would take my side. 

But he had no patience for me anymore. 

"My mom's right."

"It's not like you're trying very hard, are you?" 

Looking at the man I once loved, now a stranger to me, my heart turned to ice. 

But later, he would always come back and apologize, whispering sweet words. 

"I'm sorry, babe. I was just in a bad mood."

"Everyone our age already has kids… I just want us to have a little one of our own." 

Because of him, I swallowed my pride and drank those horrible "fertility remedies." 

To this day, my body still reacts—I get nauseous just from the smell. 

Chapter 2

"Is the patient's family here?"

"He's in critical condition—you need to see him now!" 

The nurse's urgent voice pulled me out of my thoughts. 

I took a deep breath, smoothed out my clothes, and walked into the room. 

Andrew lay on the hospital bed, covered in blood.

When he saw me, his fingers twitched.

His eyes were filled with desperation. 

"J-Jennifer… save me…" 

Looking down at him, half-dead and helpless, I felt nothing but satisfaction. 

I stood over him, toying with his wedding ring. 

I spoke slowly, my voice light and careless.

"Andrew, it's not that I don't want to save you…"

"It's just that everyone here heard it—I don't have any money to pay for your surgery." 

His lips trembled.

He struggled to get the words out. 

"C-call… my… mom…" 

Even speaking was excruciating for him—his whole face twisted in pain. 

I covered my face with my hands, pretending to sob. 

"I called her already."

"She said she doesn't have a single penny to spare."

"She even blocked me." 

He gasped, his eyes filling with fear. 

He tried again.

"Use… my… card…" 

I dropped my hands. My face was dry. 

Then, I smiled. A strange, eerie smile. 

I reached out and pressed hard on his fresh wounds. 

Andrew screamed. 

I let go after a long moment, wiping his blood off on his hospital gown. 

"Andrew, I've known about your affair for a long time."

"I even know where she lives." 

His eyes widened in shock. 

I chuckled, though I wasn't sure if I was laughing at him—or at myself. 

"And I also know about the life insurance policy you took out on me."

"A ridiculously high payout…"

"Just waiting for the day I'd have an 'accident' so you and your little mistress could cash in, right?" 

Andrew choked, his whole body seizing up.

A second later, he coughed up a mouthful of blood. 

I found out about his affair on our second wedding anniversary. 

We were supposed to have dinner and watch a movie together. 

But just before we were about to leave, he suddenly apologized. 

"Babe, I'm so sorry."

"Work emergency—I have to stay late." 

But what he didn't know was that, a day earlier, I had received an anonymous text message. 

"Guess what?"

"On your anniversary, your husband's gonna be with me instead." 

At the time, I thought it was just a stupid prank. 

But when Andrew bailed on me, I realized it was a challenge. 

So I followed his car. 

He didn't go to the office. 

He drove straight to a five-star hotel. 

I walked to the front desk, flashed my marriage certificate, and asked some questions. 

Turned out, he was a regular there. 

I stood frozen, like I had just been struck by lightning. 

For a long moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own heart breaking. 

I had thought about barging into that hotel room, confronting him, making a scene. 

But then what? 

If I divorced him, he'd just get to be with her, happy and free. 

No. 

That wouldn't be enough.

Since that day, I started keeping a close eye on Andrew.

I found out he took out a hefty life insurance policy on me—plotting to make my "accidental" death look natural.

I played along, letting him think he had everything under control.

Until today.

Today, Andrew had an accident.

Turns out, he had a generous insurance policy of his own—one that had just kicked in.

Of course, I wasn't about to tell him that.

As he lay there, seething with anger and regret, I closed his eyes for him.

"Rest in peace, honey."

The moment Andrew shut his eyes for good, it was like half my strength drained out of me.

I collapsed on the floor and sobbed uncontrollably.

I cried the whole night—until my eyes were swollen shut.

His parents got the news early the next morning.

When they rushed over, they were so shaken, they could barely stand.

Before my mother-in-law could lash out, I beat her to it, launching at her like a lioness.

"Why?! Why didn't you send the money?!"

"Why did you block my calls?!"

"You have any idea?!"

"Andrew DIED because I couldn't pay for his surgery!"

"This is on you!"

"If you hadn't forced Andrew to hand over his paycheck, he wouldn't have died like that!"

"What kind of mother does that to her own son?!"

I wailed like my heart was being ripped out.

My mother-in-law was too consumed by grief to react at first.

When she finally did, her finger trembled as she pointed at me.

"It was YOU! You cursed him!"

"You knew he was in trouble and didn't tell me!"

"You let him die on purpose, didn't you?!"

Before I could respond, the crowd around us jumped in for me.

Chapter 3

"Lady, we all heard her."

"You didn't even give her a chance to explain before cutting her off."

"Exactly. She cried all night—what else could she have done?"

"So you screw over your own son and expect his wife to take the blame?!"

My mother-in-law swayed slightly, the weight of the accusations hitting her.

"Fine," I murmured, my voice trembling.

"If you really think I killed Andrew… go ahead and call the cops."

Tears streamed down my face, my sorrow painted for everyone to see.

What's more tragic than a grieving widow getting accused by her own in-laws?

Just as my mother-in-law was about to agree, my father-in-law grabbed her arm, shaking his head urgently.

Whatever she had been about to say died on her lips.

When they finally saw Andrew's body, they broke down, sobbing so hard they could barely breathe.

Meanwhile, I took care of everything—calling family, making arrangements.

"Hey, Aunt Claire, it's me… Andrew was in an accident."

"Yeah… he's gone."

"Last night."

One by one, I called every relative.

Then, when no one was looking, I hummed a little tune to myself.

We couldn't just leave Andrew's body sitting in the hospital forever.

His parents were too grief-stricken to function, so I had to take care of it all.

The cremation, picking out a burial plot—I pushed through my "grief" and handled everything.

People noticed. I earned their sympathy.

The police finished their investigation, too.

A rainy night.

Slippery roads.

A drunk driver.

Andrew had mistaken the gas pedal for the brakes and crashed into a guardrail.

A tragic accident.

Andrew had only been dead a week when his parents kicked me out.

"You're not part of this family anymore!"

"This house? Andrew bought it! You don't get to take anything!"

"Get out, you damn curse!"

"You killed our son—now you wanna kill us too?!"

I begged them to let me stay, pleaded with my mother-in-law."

"But she was ruthless."

"She wouldn't even let me pack a bag before shoving me out the door."

"Scram! We never want to see you again!"

I knew why they were in such a hurry.

Andrew's mistress was pregnant.

They couldn't wait to bring her in and treat her like royalty.

But I still had that fat insurance check coming my way, and this show wasn't over yet.

So I did what any heartbroken widow would do.

I dropped to my knees on the doorstep, sobbing for the whole neighborhood to see.

"Please, Mom!"

"Andrew was my husband—I want to take care of you! Just let me stay!"

People gathered, whispering among themselves.

"Jesus, Mrs. Davis your son just died, and now you're kicking his wife out?"

"Don't you have a heart?"

"Exactly! Jennifer's been nothing but good to you!"

"This is cold as hell."

My mother-in-law shot me a murderous glare, then turned to the crowd with her best "grieving mother" face.

"None of your damn business! She's freeloaded off us for years!"

"Am I supposed to keep supporting her after my son's gone?"

"She couldn't even give us grandkids! That's on her!"

With that, she slammed the door in my face.

The neighbors kept shaking their heads, muttering under their breath.

I wiped my tears, thanked them for their kindness, and walked away, alone.

But now?

Now I wasn't worried about her coming after that million-dollar payout.

I borrowed some cash from a friend and booked a hotel for the month.

First order of business—a long, hot shower.

Then? The best sleep I'd had in years.

Next morning, I woke up early and hit the mall.

New clothes, new look, new life.

Three years of marriage, and the only time I ever got new clothes was for the holidays.

My mother-in-law always said shopping was a "waste of money."

I met up with my best friend from before I got married.

She knew all about Andrew. When she saw me, she smirked.

"Wow. You look like a brand-new woman."

I grinned. "That's because I am."

And then—of all people—I ran into Andrew's parents.

And his pregnant mistress.

There she was, five months along, clinging to my mother-in-law's arm.

My father-in-law trailed behind, arms weighed down with shopping bags.

Luxury baby gear.

The expensive stuff.

No dodging them now.

The second my mother-in-law spotted me, her face twisted with disgust.

She instinctively shielded the mistress, like I was some kind of threat.

"Jennifer?! Are you STALKING us?!"

I rolled my eyes.

This old hag seriously needs to stop flattering herself. 

Andrew's dead, and my act is over. 

No need to keep up the perfect daughter-in-law charade. 

I was about to snap back when my bestie beat me to it. 

"This mall yours, old lady?"

"You think you get to shop here, but we don't?" 

Her gaze landed on the mistress, and she gasped dramatically, covering her mouth in fake shock. 

"Oh my God. Your son just died, and you're already parading around his illegitimate daughter? Wow, just wow." 

With that one sentence, my bestie cemented the mistress's status as the homewrecker's kid. 

People passing by slowed down, intrigued by the drama unfolding before them. 

My mother-in-law's face turned an ugly shade of red, while my father-in-law looked downright embarrassed.