My mother-in-law was obsessed with picking mushrooms. She said mushroom stew with chicken was incredibly nourishing.

She often made it to boost my husband’s health.

However, she never let me have any, not even a sip of the broth.

Every time, she came up with some excuse to send me out on an errand.

If I refused, my husband’s fists and kicks reminded me to obey.

So, this time, I obediently went out like always. Even though I just had a miscarriage five days ago and the sun outside was scorching, I had to go.

Helen Beck, my mother-in-law, was obsessed with picking mushrooms, but she never let me have even a bite.

A mere five days after my miscarriage, she forced me to go out under the blazing sun to run errands.

The moment I stepped out, she invited the pregnant mistress of my husband, Josh Aster, over for a meal.

I thought to myself. “Go ahead, eat as much as you want. Who could possibly out-eat you two?”

At 6:00 am, Helen stormed into my room. She threw the door open with a bang and yelled, “You’re still in bed? Didn’t I call you yesterday and tell you I’d be coming over to make chicken broth for my son?

“My son works so hard at his job to provide for you. Do you think that’s easy? And here you are, sleeping in like a lazy freeloader!”

Honestly, I only managed to catch these few lines out of her tirade.

At this point, it had only been five days since my miscarriage. The miscarriage did not happen because there was something wrong with the baby. No, it happened because Josh got drunk and beat me so badly that I lost the child.

This was not the first time something like this had happened.

The first time it happened, I ran back to my parents’ house. He came crawling on his knees and begged for forgiveness. He promised it would never happen again.

I forgave him. What I got in return was even worse violence.

This time, of course, I forgave him again. Just like Helen always said, “If you can’t even hold on to a pregnancy, what good are you?”

I got up and walked to the kitchen. I spotted the mushrooms on the table.

Helen smacked me on the back and grumbled, “What are you staring at? Hurry up and wash them!”

I hesitated and asked, “Helen, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you bring these mushrooms home before. Are you sure they’re not poisonous?”

Predictably, Helen brushed me off with her usual disdain. “Look at you. You’re so clueless. These are rare termite mushrooms, perfect for making chicken broth. They’re incredibly nutritious! I went out before dawn to stake my claim, or someone else would’ve grabbed them already!

“Now, hurry up! Quit dragging your feet. Oh, and by the way, Dani is coming over later. Let her borrow your computer. Don’t you dare act stingy with family again like last time.”

The thought of Dani Aster, Josh’s sister, immediately made my blood boil with resentment.

Six months ago, I was still working at the office. I had just finished drafting a proposal, but before I could save it, Dani went and deleted it.

She had the nerve to act all pitiful and said she had not done it on purpose. I was so furious that I slapped her.

Without that proposal, my career was essentially over.

Josh did not even hesitate. He slapped me twice, knocked me to the floor, and then kicked me in the stomach.

“How dare you hit my sister? Who do you think you are to lay a hand on her?”

Helen was right there, egging him on. “Hit her! Teach her a lesson for daring to touch my precious daughter!”

It was not until blood started running down my legs that Josh finally stopped.

That was the day I lost my first child.

After losing my job, I ran back to my parents’ house. I vowed to get a divorce. However, my mom said that finding a second husband would be tough and embarrassing.

Josh came to my parents’ place again. He pretended to apologize sincerely. He got on his knees, hit himself like a madman, and begged me to come back.

I eventually agreed, only to face even worse beatings.

Josh hid my phone. For an entire month, I had no contact with the outside world.

Then he started staying out late, night after night. Whenever he did come home, he would collapse on the couch and stare at his phone with a ridiculous, lovesick grin on his face.

Helen also began bringing more mushrooms over. Sometimes, she would even carefully ladle a bowl into a thermos before she left.

I started to suspect that she was taking it to someone.

Who exactly? I did not bother looking into it. What broke me completely was the call from the insurance company. They informed me that Josh had taken out a personal accident insurance policy for me.

He was listed as the beneficiary.

While I was still lost in thought, the doorbell rang. I went to open it and found Dani standing there. She was dressed like some wannabe cutesy influencer.

I could see the disdain in her eyes. She never hid how much she looked down on me.

“Helen, your precious daughter is here.”

“Ari, can you wash my clothes? I just got back from school,” Dani said as she waltzed into the living room. Outside the door sat her enormous white suitcase.

She would always save up a whole month’s worth of laundry, even her underwear, and dump it all here for me to deal with.

I let out a quiet scoff. I grabbed her suitcase and dragged it to the balcony.

The moment I opened it, an awful stench hit me. Fighting the urge to gag, I forced myself to dump her clothes into the washing machine piece by piece.

From the kitchen, I could hear Helen and Dani chatting away. Their voices were clear as day.

“Mom, these mushrooms smell amazing!”

Helen chuckled. “Of course! These are termite mushrooms, perfect for chicken broth. They’re incredibly nourishing.”

In front of the family, Dani always kept up her sweet, innocent act.

“Well, I’m definitely having extra, then.”

Helen laughed. “Don’t worry, you greedy little kitten, there’s plenty for you. Now go call your brother and see when he’ll be back.”

I snorted and thought. “Go ahead, eat up. Eat as much as you want.”

I crouched down, closed the suitcase, and pushed it into a corner of the balcony. Then, I turned to look outside.

Our apartment was right by the entrance of the complex. It was on the seventh floor, which was just the right spot for a clear view.

Sure enough, I saw Josh walking in while dragging a suitcase behind him. He was linking arms with a younger woman.

Quietly, I pulled out my phone, zoomed in, and snapped a few pictures.

When did I find out?

Funny enough, I had Helen to thank for that. Her frequent trips with chicken broth packed in thermoses were what tipped me off. My father-in-law passed away years ago. I naively thought Helen had found herself a new lover.

It was about three months ago when I accidentally spotted her carrying the thermos toward another building.

I saw her go up to the third floor and knock on a door. A woman answered the door.

Curious, I waited for an opportunity when Josh was out of town and decided to investigate.

From my stakeout, I saw a young woman come out of the apartment on the third floor. Her belly was visibly swollen; she was at least six months pregnant.

Helen was carefully supporting her and fussing over her like she was carrying a royal heir.

At that moment, my vision blurred with rage.

I was young once. Seven years ago, I followed Josh through thick and thin, from eating cheap takeout in a tiny apartment to having a car and a home of our own.

During those years, I put off having children to ensure stability for both of our careers. I had even planned to quit my job this year to focus on my pregnancy. I never expected that he would strike me with the cruelest blow.

After the miscarriage six months ago, the doctor told me my chances of conceiving were slim.

That was when Helen started nitpicking and finding fault with everything I did. And just when I managed to get pregnant again, Josh found an excuse to beat me until I lost the baby.

That woman was to blame.

I walked back from the balcony into my bedroom and caught sight of myself in the mirror. I did not look like a 30-year-old woman anymore. Wrinkles lined my face, and my complexion was so pale it looked like I was anemic.

The aroma of chicken broth wafted through the air, followed by the sound of the front door opening.

“Mom, it smells amazing.”

I quickly went to greet him. I took his luggage and coat with a smile. “Honey, you’re finally back!” I chirped.

Josh glanced at me and feigned a hint of concern.

“Why aren’t you resting in bed? You just had a miscarriage.”

When I heard those words, tears blurred my vision.

Josh gently comforted me. “Don’t cry. It hurts me to see you like this.”

Meanwhile, Helen placed the thermos on the table with a loud thud and scolded me. “Why are you being so dramatic? This is what happens when you’re useless.”

“Mom, cut her some slack.”

Josh helped me back into the bedroom and gently urged me to lie down and rest.

As I watched his figure disappear out the door, I could not help but sneer.

Every time he beat me, there would always be a period where he would dote on me.

As long as I played along, I would not have to endure another beating.