“I’m supporting my husband, raising our child, managing the home, and making everyone envy Ethan for having a great mom and a happy family.”
I paused. “Isn’t that exactly what you all said you wanted from me?”
All his fury and accusations shattered under that one line.
He slumped onto the sofa, at a loss for words.
Yes—this was the outcome they had begged for with their own hands.
Who else could they blame?
A few days after the birthday party, Ethan showed unusual symptoms—
first a low fever, then nighttime cries about severe leg pain.
In my previous life, I was too busy with work and overlooked them; by the time I noticed, it was too late.
That became Daniel’s family’s biggest excuse—my own son’s, even—to drive me to my death.
This time, I would give them no such chance.
I rushed Ethan to the most expensive private hospital in the city.
When the definitive report came out, I broke down, sobbing as if my heart were tearing apart.
Daniel and my in-laws hurried to the hospital.
At the sight of the diagnosis, my mother-in-law lunged for my collar and screamed,
“This is all your fault! You kept buying imported snacks and foreign formula for him—you ruined his health! You curse of a woman!”