I was out of the country for a month doing an exhibition when my mother suddenly hit me on chat, saying she wanted to go home. My mother's deaf, so she typed out a message using handwriting input, [Ysabell, I am just an old country bumpkin, can't get used to living in the city. I'm much happier back in the village.]

I immediately called her for a video chat and noticed what looked like a handprint on her right cheek. Before I could ask what was going on, she hurriedly hung up. On social media, our live-in housekeeper posted a picture of a Mercedes. In the corner of the photo was a rag that looked suspiciously like the scarf I gave my mother.

I called my husband, Jude Zaretsky, to ask what had happened. Alas, he just laughed at my wild guesses. "Jared is a grown man, why would he steal something from an old lady? You're just being paranoid, aren't you?"

However, I heard a man's voice in the background over the phone. "You old hag! If you don't clean the toilet properly, no food for you!"

The more I thought about it, the more something seemed off. I checked the security camera footage, which I had never bothered to look at before and it was completely black. The worst part was that I heard a faint whimper.

——

I stared at my phone, rereading my mother's message. [Ysabell, I'm just a country bumpkin. I really can't get used to living in the city. I feel uncomfortable no matter what I do. I want to go back to the countryside. Can you book me a ticket?]

Being deaf, my mother was not very good at handwriting input and I can only imagine how long it took her to type those words. When I first brought her to the city, she was all smiles and she'd even gotten rid of all the chickens and ducks back home. Why did she suddenly want to go back to the village now? That's really strange.

I quickly called her for a video chat. After a few seconds, the video connected and my mother's wrinkled face flashed on the screen. I notice a red mark on her right cheek. Was it a handprint on her face? My heart skipped a beat. Before I could say anything, my mother quickly hung up. After that, no matter how many messages I sent, she didn't reply.

Then, our live-in housekeeper, Jared Lopez, posted a picture of a Mercedes on his social media. It looked like a brand-new car. The caption below read, Got a new toy, anyone wanna go for a spin?

In the corner of the photo was a rag that looked like the scarf I gave my mother. That scarf was the first thing I bought with my money from a part-time college job and she always treasured it. How could she give it to someone else to use as a rag? I tried to convince her to throw it away a couple of years ago, saying it was too old, but she wouldn't let it go.

I tried to convince myself it was just a coincidence, but the pattern and the worn-out edges were precisely the same as my mother's. I felt a chill run down my spine. Then, I called my husband again. After several rings, he finally picked up. "Honey, what's been going on with Mom lately? Why does she suddenly want to go back? And that scarf ... "

Jude let out a chuckle. "You're being paranoid again. Do you really think Jared would steal from an old lady? Your mom probably threw it away. Besides, your mom changes her mind all the time. How would I know why she suddenly wants to leave? I'm not a mind reader. I'm busy at a business dinner. Gotta go!"

Before I could say anything else, he hung up. A bad feeling settled in my gut. Jared had been hired by Jude six months ago. He told Jared he was a distant relative, a poor kid from a struggling family. Jude swore that the guy was honest and hardworking, willing to do anything to support his family. But now, something wasn't right.

Technically, he was our family's housekeeper, but I had always treated him well since he was Jude's relative. His job was easy, mostly just driving my mother around for grocery shopping or strolls. We also had a cook and a part-time cleaner, so he didn't have much to do.

Still, how could someone from a struggling background suddenly afford a Mercedes? Did he rent it? Or was there something else going on? These questions kept swirling in my head. I clicked on Jared's post again, but it was gone. Then I had an idea. I pulled up the security camera footage, which I never usually bother with and guess what? It was just a black screen! Nothing.

Suddenly, I heard this faint whimpering sound. Barely there, but it felt like a needle poking right at my heart. My gut was telling me something was seriously wrong. I decided to cut my business trip short and booked a flight home.

I rushed back as fast as I could. The moment I opened the door, Jude looked startled. His eyes flashed with panic before he quickly put on an expression of surprise. "Babe! You're back early! You must be hungry, let me make you something to eat!" As he spoke, he subtly blocked the doorway as if trying to hide something.

I frowned, an inexplicable irritation rising in my chest. "I already ate on the plane. I'm not hungry."

His voice suddenly got louder. "Oh, not hungry? Then just go rest!"

From inside the house, I heard the sound of things shifting. I pushed past him and scanned the room. Something felt off, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Jared was standing in the living room, sweeping the floor, with a bit of sweat on his forehead. He looked flustered for a second but then gave me this cheesy smile. "Mrs. Ysabell, you're back!"

I nodded and headed straight for my mother's room. She was wearing her reading glasses and seemed to be sewing something. She used to work in factories, making buttons and stuff, which really messed up her eyes. It made my heart ache.

When I opened the door, my mother jumped like I'd scared her. She dropped a men's shirt she was holding. When she saw it was me, she forced a smile. I signed to her, "Mom, what's going on? Why did you want to go back so suddenly?"

She shook her head and signed back. "I'm not used to the city. I miss Macey and the others."

I frowned even more. "Mom. Aunt Macey passed away last year. Tell me the truth, what's wrong?"

My mother's eyes darted towards the door. Someone was standing there. It was Jude. He yawned and said, "What are you two doing, playing charades?"

When my mother heard Jude's voice, she flinched and covered her face. I saw bruises on the back of her hand. I grabbed her hand and pulled up her sleeve. Her whole arm was covered in bruises. "Jude, how did my mom get these bruises?" I was furious and my voice was loud. "And why is she sewing? I told you a million times, that her eyes are bad. She shouldn't be doing any needlework. She needs to rest!"

Jude glanced at my mom. She quickly yanked her sleeve down and waved her hands frantically, signaling that she was okay.

"Ysabell Coleman, calm down," Jude sighed, looking exasperated. "What, are you interrogating me like a criminal now?"

"You know how stubborn Mom can be. That day your mother insisted on cleaning the stairs, I told her not to, but she didn't listen and fell down! He also insisted on helping Jared sew the clothes, what can I do?"

Right then, Jared showed up at the doorway, looking all innocent and honest. "Mrs. Ysabell, I'm sorry. Your mother saw my clothes were torn and offered to help me fix them. Right, Ma'am?"

My mother nodded hard. I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Mom, where's the scarf I gave you?"

She trembled, her hands shaking as she gestured, "Ysabell, I'm sorry. I thought the scarf looked too old-fashioned, so I threw it away."

My mother suffered her whole life. The reason I brought her to the city was so she could finally enjoy some peace, but now her profoundly wrinkled face was covered in tears and her lips quivering. Everything was fine before I left. So, why did she look so scared and miserable now? My chest tightened with pain.

Just then, Jude's phone started ringing urgently. His expression shifted slightly and a flash of panic crossed his eyes. He quickly walked to the corner and lowered his voice to answer the call. A moment later, he hung up, hurried over and said anxiously, "Ysabell, there's a data issue at the company. I have to go fix it right away. I drank at dinner earlier, so Jared, you drive me."

Before he even finished speaking, he turned and rushed out the door with Jared. My mother watched them leave, her expression a mix of fear, worry and sadness. My gut told me something was off with Jude.

Our marriage had been rushed and forced from the start. It was an accident after a drunken night at a business event. After we got married, he said he was too lazy to learn sign language and I never pushed him. I was always busy with work.

Six months ago, after my mother recovered from a broken bone, I figured our place was spacious enough, so I brought her to live with us. It was easier to take care of her and it was the least I could do for her. Jude agreed right away and after some hesitation, my mom happily moved in. I thought I could finally be a good daughter, yet now nothing feels right. There were too many strange things happening and I couldn't shake this uneasy feeling.

"Mom, if you really want to go back home, I'll take you for a couple of days. You can always come back," I reassured her, trying to ease her anxiety. My mother looked conflicted. She moved her lips, but no words came out. After a moment of silence, she gestured, "I am fine, really. I just miss the farm work back home."

No matter how much I tried to convince my mother, she insisted on going back to our hometown. That night, after she fell asleep, I quietly got up. I went to the living room and called my best friend, Catherine Warren. "Hey, doesn't your company have some IT geniuses? Can you help me recover some surveillance footage?"

In the middle of the night, I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Suddenly, the front door swung open, followed by a deafening sound of the TV. I rushed to my door and looked downstairs.

"Damn! What a goal!" a deafening shout echoed through the house. Jared was watching a soccer game with a beer in his hand, smoking a cigarette and the living room filled with smoke.

I was startled for a few seconds before I realized what was happening. I rushed downstairs, turned off the TV and glared at Jared angrily. "Jared! What are you doing in the middle of the night?"