Chapter 1

When my husband's mother, Sarah Brown, was hospitalized due to illness, I took care of her around the clock, never leaving her side.

After Sarah's condition finally stabilized, Rita Brown, the wife of my husband's brother, finally showed up, appearing at the door of the hospital room.

Though she arrived empty-handed, Sarah couldn't stop praising her for her devotion, showering her with compliments.

I rolled my eyes in frustration and quietly left the room, feeling a mix of emotions in my heart.

Once Sarah was discharged and recovered, I suggested that she stay with Rita for a while so that Rita and her family could have the chance to show their filial piety to her.

I couldn't help but smile coldly when I saw Rita hesitating and reluctantly trying to avoid my suggestion.

She had to experience some things herself.

"Cynthia Brown, what kind of food did you bring me? Is there anything here that I actually like?"

Sarah's angry shout suddenly rang out, and at the same time, food splashed all over me. The metal lunch box hit my abdomen hard, making me feel a sharp, dull pain.

I looked down at the food all over the floor and then at my wet clothes. The sticky feeling was unpleasant and uncomfortable.

Not wanting to disturb others' rest and to maintain my own dignity, I chose to remain silent. With a sigh, I began cleaning up the mess.

Once the mess was cleaned up, I changed into fresh clothes before explaining to Sarah.

"Sarah, the doctor said you shouldn't eat greasy food right now, so I made you some light soup and vegetables."

Even though my tone was full of helplessness, Sarah stubbornly turned her head away and kept yelling at me.

Knowing that further communication with Sarah was pointless, I quietly reminded her to follow the doctor's advice before shutting my mouth.

Sarah huffed disdainfully and turned away, no longer paying me any attention.

It was nearly noon, and everyone else had gone out for lunch. The room was left with only Sarah and me.

An oppressive silence filled the air, so thick that even the sound of a falling needle would have seemed loud.

I was about to step out of the room for some fresh air when suddenly, I heard the sound of a woman crying uncontrollably.

Before I could react, a figure quickly rushed toward Sarah's bed.

"Sarah, how are you feeling? Is there anything else bothering you? I've been so worried these past few days. I can't even sleep at night thinking about your suffering in the hospital..." A stream of concerned words poured out like rapid fire.

I looked up and saw that it was none other than Rita Brown, the wife of my husband's brother, who was sobbing as she clung to Sarah.

Seeing her fake display of concern, I felt a wave of disgust wash over me.

Just a month ago, Sarah's chronic condition flared up again, and this time it was quite serious.

I rushed Sarah to the hospital and called my husband, Jeffrey Brown. Because it was an emergency, I had no choice but to sign the surgery consent form as the doctor advised.

By the time Jeffrey arrived, sweating and panicked, Sarah had already been wheeled into the operating room.

We hadn't even had a chance to inform Jeffrey's brother, Earl Brown, about the situation yet.

And now, Rita, like a latecomer, appeared to lament how much she cared about Sarah. Her insincerity left me feeling completely contemptuous.