Why was it in Agnes Fox's purse?!

My whole body trembled. I lunged forward to grab the card.

"Why do you have this?"

Before my fingers even touched it, William rushed over and shoved me hard. I stumbled backward, the small of my back slamming into the sharp corner of his desk. Pain shot up my spine, and I sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

But William was already shielding Agnes behind him, jabbing a finger in my face.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Celine?! Agnes is a single mom who just got scammed out of her money by some deadbeat. I lent her that card so she'd have somewhere to store her work funds. Is that a crime? Can you stop looking at her like she's some kind of thief?!"

Agnes cowered behind him, dabbing at her tears with trembling fingers. "I'm so sorry, Celine. This is all my fault. Please don't blame William..."

I stared at him. Long and hard. Then I snatched the scattered documents off the floor and hurled them into his chest before turning on my heel and walking out.

The moment I stepped outside, I hailed a cab to the nearest bank.

When the teller slid the transaction history across the counter, my hands shook so badly I could barely hold the thin sheets of paper.

Balance: $14.20.

Every last dollar of my eighty thousand in savings, drained over the past six months. Transfer after transfer, chipped away in small amounts, funneled into an account I'd never seen before.

I sat on the bench outside the bank for a long time that afternoon, turning everything over in my mind.

By the time I dragged my numb body home and pushed open the front door, I found my mother-in-law sprawled across the living room couch with her feet up, watching TV. Sunflower seed shells littered the floor around her like confetti.

Dorothy Dickerson had shown up from the countryside without so much as a phone call.

She didn't even glance up when I walked in. Her voice dripped with that particular brand of acid she saved just for me.

"Well, well. Mrs. Dickerson finally decided to drag herself home from wherever she's been gallivanting. My son works himself half to death out there, and you can't even have a hot meal waiting? A woman who won't even give her husband a second child, a boy at that. Honestly, I don't know what he married you for."

I looked at her coldly.

Every appliance in this house, every bag of rice, every bottle of cooking oil. I'd paid for all of it, working freelance jobs until my eyes blurred at three in the morning. Where did she get off lecturing me?

I ignored her and walked straight toward the kitchen.

That was when the front door opened again.

William walked in carrying armfuls of shopping bags stuffed with supplements and tonics. And behind him, belly swollen and unmistakable, was Agnes Fox.

"Why did you bring her here?"

I fixed my eyes on William.

He didn't flinch. If anything, he arranged his features into an expression of saintly compassion.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Celine. Agnes's ex-husband was abusive. Her lease ran out and she got kicked out of her apartment. Our boss felt sorry for her and asked me to help her out for a few days. Besides, now that Mom's here in the city, Agnes is hardworking and well-mannered. She can help with the housework, keep Mom company. Think of it as free help around the house. What's wrong with that?"

Free help around the house.

What happened at dinner ground that lie into dust.

Dorothy emerged from the kitchen cradling a bowl of premium bird's nest soup, fragrant steam curling from its surface. She set it down in front of Agnes with a warmth I'd never once seen directed at me.

"Agnes, sweetheart, eat it while it's hot. Oh, just look at how you're carrying. Pointed belly like that, it's definitely a boy! A woman's worth is in what she can produce, I always say. Even a single mother has something to fall back on if she's got a son. Not like some people. Sitting on the nest and never laying an egg."

Then she turned to me, slamming a plate of leftover stir-fried cabbage and pork from the night before onto the table in front of me.

"You eat this. No sense letting it go to waste."

Free help around the house?

This wasn't about hiring a housekeeper. Dorothy had come to the city to personally wait on her precious little songbird while she carried what they all hoped was a golden grandson.

Agnes picked up her spoon with dainty, delicate fingers. Mid-bite, she let out a soft "Oh my!" and turned her wrist just so. A diamond ring caught the overhead light and flashed, sharp and blinding.

It was the matching ring from my first wedding anniversary. The one I'd designed and paid for myself.

I thought I'd lost it and had cried about it in secret more than once.

Agnes deliberately ran her fingers over the ring and gave me a pitiful little smile.

"Celine, please don't be upset. William saw that I didn't have any jewelry, so he lent it to me for a few days so I'd look presentable. He said you're the most generous person he knows and that you'd never hold a grudge against a pregnant woman. Right?"

The whole table radiated warmth and harmony. Everyone except me. I was the punchline.

I looked at the three of them and felt a chill settle deep in my bones.

William was performing. His mother was playing along. Agnes was provoking me.

I set down my chopsticks calmly and dabbed my mouth with a napkin.

"It's fine. You're carrying a boy, Agnes. That's hard work. Make sure you eat plenty."

My flat reaction earned me a few extra glances from Dorothy and William.

What good would a scene do?

Making a fuss would only tip them off.

I went back to my room, locked the door, and quietly ordered several top-of-the-line hidden cameras online.

The day the cameras arrived, I waited until Dorothy took Agnes downstairs for a walk, then installed them throughout the apartment, covering every angle.

It took exactly one day.

The very next afternoon, the monitoring earpiece fed me sounds that made my stomach turn.

On the same bed where I slept every night, Agnes was moaning breathlessly.

"William, when are you finally going to kick that frumpy hag out? My belly's getting bigger by the day. You can't seriously expect me to keep playing nanny forever. It's humiliating!"

William kissed her and let out a cold laugh.

"Just hang in there a little longer, baby. The mortgage on that apartment she brought into the marriage is almost paid off. Once I sweet-talk her into adding my name to the deed, I'll find some excuse to dump her with nothing. For the sake of our boy, just hold on a few more days."

I stayed up all night compiling their transaction records to build a case.

But while combing through the bank statements, I discovered something even more horrifying.

When my daughter was barely a month old, I'd scraped together every penny I had to buy her a critical illness insurance policy.

William had secretly canceled it and cashed out a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

And the trail of that money led straight to the brand-new Hermès Birkin bag Agnes had flaunted on social media just yesterday.

To buy his mistress a designer bag, he'd cashed in his own daughter's insurance.

That evening, I had just gotten my daughter's fever down and rocked her to sleep.

William pushed open the bedroom door wearing a smile so tender it was sickening.

He sat down beside me, pulled two documents from his briefcase, and spoke in a voice laced with what was meant to pass for affection.

"Honey, our girl's about to start elementary school. I looked into it today, and the policy's changed. Both parents need to be on the deed for the school-district apartment, or enrollment isn't guaranteed. This place is in your name from before the marriage, so let's go to the housing bureau and add mine. It's all for our daughter's sake."

Dorothy was perched nearby, cracking sunflower seeds and rolling her eyes as she chimed in.

"Honestly, Celine, you think my son's trying to steal your little apartment? How much of his money have you spent over the years? He's generous enough as it is, and he's still looking out for you and the child."

Agnes sat on the couch, one hand resting on her swollen belly, watching me with a smug, satisfied grin.

"Celine, William's worked himself to the bone for this family. Just sign it already."

I stared at the document in front of me. It was labeled as a property title amendment consent form, but buried inside was a trap designed to strip me of everything in a divorce settlement. The sheer audacity of it made my skin crawl.

I picked up the cup of scalding hot tea that had just been poured, aimed it squarely at William's disgustingly tender face, and threw it without an ounce of hesitation.

"Ahhh! You crazy bitch!" William shrieked, clutching his scalded, reddening face. Dorothy and Agnes screamed in unison.

"You want to con me into signing over my apartment so you can throw me out with nothing and make room for your illegitimate child?"

I let out a cold laugh, pulled a thick stack of bank statements, insurance cancellation records, and affair photos from my bag, and hurled them into his face like a blizzard.

"William Dickerson, I'm going to make sure you, your mistress, and your mother lose everything you have and rot behind bars!"