On my sixtieth birthday, I was kidnapped and the kidnappers threatened me, forcing me to sign an inheritance transfer agreement.

Because I refused to sign, the kidnappers beat and kicked me viciously. My marriage certificate fell to the ground, soaking in a pool of my own blood that was coloring the ground red …. And under relentless torture, I finally blacked out.

When I came to consciousness again, I was in the hospital. It just so happened I overheard a conversation outside the hospital room between my best friend, Sofia Miller and my husband, Isaac Braun.

“Darling, our son is about to get married. Why did you bring her back now? Did Riley Harper hand over the inheritance to our son yet? Also, did you buy accidental death insurance for Riley and her son? After tricking her for forty years with a fake marriage certificate, she and her cheap son should at least serve one final purpose.”

Sofia's shrill laughter pierced through the hospital door like a knife.

Isaac, my husband, responded, his voice low and indulgent, “Don’t worry, Sofia. I only brought her back because I had no other choice. It didn’t work this time, but I’ve already made new arrangements. Her sixtieth birthday trip will be the perfect opportunity to set things right … It's just ...  Yosef Braun is still my son, after all…”

Outside the door, I bit my lower lip in shock, unable to believe what I was hearing. Then I received the news that my son had died in a car accident.

For forty years, I had always believed I was happy, with a successful husband and an obedient, understanding son. Even when I had given up my rising career to focus on our family, I still felt it was all worth it.

Yet, on the day I turned sixty, everything shattered. My husband wasn’t truly my husband. My son was gone. And even my own life was now hanging by a thread.

Fighting through the grief, I dialed my lawyer with trembling fingers. “Please… help me uncover the truth. I want to conduct a full audit of my dowry and all assets. And… book me a ticket… seven days from now. I’m going home.”

I must uncover all the truths … for myself, for my son and for the years to come. Half of my lifetime had passed like a dream

***

After discussing everything with the lawyer, I set the phone aside and let the physical and emotional pain consume me.

A fake marriage certificate? Accident insurance? Value?

I bit my lip hard, letting the metallic taste of blood spread through my mouth.

After forty years of sleeping beside the same man, sharing mornings and nights, hearing Isaac's gentleness and his sweet promises … it turned out all of it was just a cruel joke. Even our child had died as part of their scheme.

The mere thought of my beloved child caused my body to tremble uncontrollably.

At that moment, the door creaked open gently. The familiar sound of high heels and leather shoes sent a wave of nausea through me. These were the last people I wanted to see.

I struggled to control myself, fearing that with my overwhelming hatred, I would tear them apart.

“Riley, you’re finally awake. You scared us to death.” Sofia rushed to my side. Her eyes filled with concern. The strong scent of perfume instantly filled the entire ward. Though it was a familiar fragrance, it now only made me feel nauseous.

“How did your sixtieth birthday end up like this? When Isaac and I received a call from the police saying you’d been kidnapped, we were terrified! Thankfully, it turned out to be a false alarm. How are you feeling now? Does your body still hurt?” Sofia’s tone was filled with exaggerated concern.  

Isaac's figure also loomed over the bed. I could feel the concern in his eyes as he looked upon me.

"Riley." The way he called out my name seemed to carry a crashing weight of worry and heartache. "It's good you're finally awake. How do you feel? Don't be afraid, I'm here."  

His hand, the one that had once held mine through countless storms, now trembled slightly as it gently rested on my arm.  

Sofia kept babbling on. “Isaac is so good to you. He has been by your side the whole time and didn’t even close his eyes. The doctors said you only suffered superficial injuries, so you’ll recover well after some rest. Let’s just treat this as some cruel joke from fate. Once you get through this, good fortune will come. The three of you are still the family everyone envies the most.”

Sofia’s words were light as a feather, as if she were treating this deliberate kidnapping and the disaster that had shattered my life as a trivial “joke.”

Future blessings? My son is dead, my husband and best friend are still scheming at the door to squeeze every last drop of value out of me … is that my “future blessings”?

“Yosef, he died in a car accident ...” I spoke softly. My eyes locked with Isaac’s as I delivered the news of my son's death.

“What? What?” Isaac's hand on my arm froze suddenly, his tall body shook violently, his face drained of color in a flash and he stumbled as his hand holding the end of the be, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably. At that moment, I was willing to believe that he was truly heartbroken over the loss of his son.

Sofia rushed forward to support Isaac, but her eyes darted quickly and meaningfully over to me, lying on the bed like a lifeless shell. Her lips could not help but curl into a smile, which was then covered by a layer of deliberately feigned grief.

“Oh my God, how could this happen! Riley, my dear sister.”

I just lay there in silence, watching them both quietly. There was no need to rush this. After all, there were still seven days left.

The sky hung low, heavy clouds pressing down on the cemetery on the western edge of the city. Etched in cold stone on the headstone was a young, handsome photo of my son, Yosef Braun.

His smile was bright, as if he had only left temporarily, but below the photo were the dates that marked the brief span of his life.

Isaac and I stood in front of the grave. His tall frame was slightly hunched and the umbrella in his hand tilted gently in my direction, trying to shield me from more of the rain and wind.

I turned to look at him. His side profile looked rigid with tension, the dark circles under his eyes were so deep they seemed impossible to fade and his entire being was draped in sorrow.

Yet, I alone knew the truth that while some of these grievances might truly be for his blood-related son, the biggest part was more likely for the unexpected disruption of the “correction” plan.

I kept my eyes locked on the photo of my son, but my mind kept replaying the findings the lawyer had uncovered.

My son had been preparing for my sixtieth birthday party at the birthday venue when he received a phone call and rushed out of the banquet hall. After the car accident, the vehicle that caused the accident did not stop at all and vanished into the dark, rainy night.

My son had died trying to save me.

No mother could possibly move on from that. The pain was truly unbearable.

“… By the mercy of the Lord, may His faithful servant Yosef Braun be received into eternal light and rest...” The pastor's voice seemed to come from a faraway place.

Just then, the sound of footsteps approaching suddenly sounded. Hearing that, my body stiffened and I turned my head.

Sofia appeared in a perfectly tailored black suit, holding a dainty black lace-trimmed umbrella. Beside her stood a tall, slim young man, Jack Miller.

He was dressed in a brand-new black suit, looking a bit nervous. His eyes darted everywhere, unable to see directly at the photo on the tombstone.

I once had so much sympathy for this “poor child” my best friend had raised out of wedlock. I treated him like my half-son. I cared for his well-being, helped him and even used Isaac’s company resources to open doors for him.

And Sofia had always been deeply grateful, calling me the savior of her and her son.

At this moment, under the cold rain, every lie was being washed clean.

I stared hard at Jack’s young face.

Those brows… that bridge of his nose … the line of his jaw… the expression he made when he pressed his lips together … Now, upon closer inspection, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the man standing beside me, who was sunk in sorrow, Isaac.

So, the clown in this story had always been me.

Sofia stepped closer. Her eyes locked on me and Isaac. Her voice trembled with suppressed sobs. "Riley, Isaac, I’m so sorry for your loss. Jack and I are here to see Yosef off one last time.”

Her gaze darted quickly over Isaac's grief-stricken face before settling back on me. Beyond the feigned sorrow, there was a hint of inexpressible excitement lurking within.

Jack kept his head down and muttered, "Uncle … Auntie … I’m sorry for your loss.”

Isaac seemed to be jolted out of his daze by their arrival. He lifted his bloodshot eyes and looked deeply at Jack and gave him a nearly imperceptible nod, then murmured something vague before his gaze turned unfocused once again to the cold, wet gravestone.

I turned away because I couldn’t bear to look anymore.

The funeral ended in cold, stifling silence.

The ride back was deathly quiet.

I leaned against the cold car window, staring blankly at the rain streaming past outside. Every wound on my body that had not yet healed was screaming in pain, but none compared to the cold, bone-chilling void in my heart.

Isaac sat beside me. After a long silence, he finally spoke, “Riley …”

He paused, as if searching for the right words before saying, "Yosef had already gone and I know there is nothing that can make up for it, but … life had to go on. Sofia and her son are just a widow and an orphan. And with Jack having just graduated from university, he needs someone to give him a hand."

He turned his head to look at me, his voice tinged with a barely perceptible hint of hesitation. “I think we should bring Jack into the company. Let him start from the bottom, so he can get familiar with the business and gradually move him up to the management level. After all, we have to make plans for the living, don't you agree?"

I stared at him and laughed coldly.

Let Jack join the company? Groom him for a management level? Taking care of Sofia, a widow and her “poor son”? Aren't those just excuses to pave the way for his biological son, under the guise of "taking care" and "making plans for the living"? How eager he was!

I clenched my hands and replied hoarsely, “Do whatever you want. I’m not in the mood to care.”

Hearing my words, Isaac looked at ease. He gripped my hand in a show of affection.

But I immediately pulled my hand away. Besides, once I recovered all my assets, the company would likely head toward bankruptcy and what happened to it in the future had nothing to do with me.

The heavy wrought-iron gate slowly closed behind us. A servant silently took the soaked black coats from me and Isaac.

Just as I was dragging my legs, which felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead, towards the stairs, under the warm, bright light of the living room, two figures that shouldn't be here suddenly appeared in my sight.

Sofia had changed into a soft, off-white cashmere sweater and was sitting on the expensive leather sofa in the living room. Jack, like a child who had done something wrong, stood beside the sofa with his head bowed, his hands fidgeting nervously.

A surge of anger instantly replaced my fatigue and surged straight to my head. “Why are they here?” My voice carried a bone-chilling coldness and unmasked accusation, shattering the hypocritical calm of the living room.

Isaac lifted his head. The heavy grief from the funeral still lingered on his face, now tinged with a touch of awkwardness and irritation.

He avoided my burning gaze and cleared his throat before speaking in a tired, almost matter-of-fact tone. "Riley, you’ve been through so much... I just didn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone. I thought it’d be good for Jack to stay here to accompany and talk with you for a while. It's better than being alone. Let them stay here for now to take care of you."

"Let them stay here?" My voice shot up in pitch. "You want them to move in? To ‘accompany me’? To ‘take care of me’?" Each rhetorical question was laced with scathing sarcasm and hatred. "Are you afraid I’ll die too slowly, or are you just impatient to have your little family reunion under my roof?"

"Riley, calm down!" Isaac’s face darkened, his tone growing stern. "I know you're grieving, but you can't be this unreasonable. Sofia means well! She genuinely wants to care for you. Just look at yourself right now..."

Sofia went pale under the ruthlessness of my words. Her eyes quickly rushed down her cheeks like a broken string of pearls that brought out a sense that she had been horribly wronged and misunderstood.

“Riley, how could you say that to me?” she sobbed softly. “I’m worried about you. Yosef is gone and you have no family left. Isaac is a man, so how could he know how to take care of someone? I genuinely wanted to come and take care of you.”

She cried with such sincerity that it looked like she might faint any second.

Isaac immediately stepped forward and supported her. His eyes, when he looked at me, filled with disapproval and blame, as if I were the unreasonable, ungrateful villain.

Sofia leaned against Isaac's arm and, while sobbing, made an even more absurd and repulsive suggestion, "Riley, for the sake of all our years as sisters … please let Jack stay here. After all, not only he is your nephew, but he’s always respected you like a mother."

She gave Jack, who was still frozen like a statue, a hard tug and her voice suddenly turned desperate and manic. "Jack! Quick, beg your Aunt Riley! Beg her to let you stay and take care of her. And … and …."

She looked at Isaac, then back at me and as if she’d finally made up her mind, her eyes blazed with determination. "Let Jack recognize Isaac as his godfather. That way, he becomes your godson and we’ll be a real family. In the future, he can take Yosef’s place to be filial to you and care for you in your old age. Riley, please … take pity on us, a widow and son and give yourself and Isaac, a little something to hold onto too."

"Recognize Isaac as Jack's godfather?" That word hit me like thunder, leaving me frozen in place.

I stared blankly at the scene before me … at Sofia’s tear-streaked face, Isaac’s satisfied expression and Jack's eyes that glinted with a hint of hidden longing.

Suddenly, a sharp, metallic taste surged in my throat. “Pfft—!”

Just before losing consciousness, I heard myself scream a broken roar that filled with every last ounce of hatred I had left, “Get ... Out...”