Destination: Hawaii.

I must be the happiest woman in the world right now.

The comments section overflowed with envy and congratulations. Mary replied to each one personally, basking in the attention.

Then someone asked: "What about your senior's wife?"

Mary's response came instantly: "Who cares about her? She's just some middle-aged hag—frumpy, unkempt, reeking of desperation."

"My man had to lie next to THAT every night. Can you imagine the torture?"

"But now they're divorced, and he's finally ALL MINE."

"He's free at last!"

Her profile featured videos showing off her face—young, gorgeous, with a body to match. So naturally, no one called her a homewrecker. Instead, they showered her with blessings, gushing about how "true love always finds a way."

My blood boiled. I created a burner account and commented: "Your 'prince charming' got other women pregnant and then heartlessly abandoned them. That doesn't bother you?"

Less than two minutes later, she replied.

"LOL that just proves how irresistible he is! Those women threw themselves at him because he's THAT amazing. They got what they deserved!"

I typed back: "Aren't you worried he might have children out there?"

"Why would I care? Kids or no kids, nothing changes how I feel about him. Besides, his wife got pregnant before, but I convinced him to talk her into aborting it."

The words hit me like a sledgehammer.

Rage exploded behind my eyes.

So that's why. All those years ago, when I'd gotten pregnant and Corey kept finding excuses—"the timing isn't right," "we'll have kids later," "let's wait until we're more stable"—pushing me toward the clinic again and again...

Someone had been pulling his strings all along. Someone had whispered in his ear, convincing him to pressure me into destroying our child.

I never could have imagined.

Corey was capable of this.

Another way to look at it: he'd killed our baby.

I choked down the murderous fury clawing up my throat and typed: "You made him pressure his wife into an abortion. Aren't you afraid of karma?"

Her reply was instantaneous: "Karma? HAHAHA please. There's no such thing as karma."

"As long as he belongs to me and only me—"

"I'd take a lightning strike and call it worth it."

"Anyway, gotta go! We're off to Hawaii for some quality couple time. Bye~ See you in the next video!"

She didn't respond again.

But I had already made a decision. A big one.

A few days later.

We were eating dinner when Victor Henson and Beryl Henson asked where Corey had gone. They hadn't seen him in days.

I hesitated. "Dad, Mom... Corey's been really busy with work."

They looked skeptical but accepted it.

A week later, they were in a car accident.

Beryl died on impact.

Victor was critically injured. The doctors managed to save him, but when he learned his wife was gone—

He wept until he passed out. Then woke and wept again. Three times he lost consciousness from the grief.

I stayed at the hospital for two weeks, taking care of him.

The question he asked most often: "Where's my son?"

I never gave him a straight answer.

Until today.

I had just finished cleaning his bedpan and was walking back into the room when—

Thud.

He dropped to his knees.

"Ann." His voice cracked. "Ever since you married into this family, I've treated you like my own daughter."

He looked up at me, eyes red and swollen, desperation carved into every line of his face.

"Please. Please tell me—what happened to my son? Why won't his phone connect when I call?"

"Ask his colleagues."

"They all said he quit ages ago."

"What on earth happened between you two?"

I hurried to help my father-in-law up from the floor.

There was no hiding it anymore.

I let out a long sigh. "Dad... Corey, he... had cancer. He passed away. The body was cremated, and his ashes were scattered at sea—just like he wanted."

"Wh... what?"

Victor's face went slack with shock.

I lifted a hand to wipe my tears, choking out the rest of the story between sobs.

It had been over two weeks ago, I told him.

Corey had been diagnosed with late-stage liver cancer.

He hadn't wanted his family to suffer.

So he'd chosen to bear it alone, in silence.

"Why didn't he tell us sooner?"

"Corey said... he wanted to keep it from you as long as he could."

"You... you two..."

Grief and fury warred across Victor's face. First his wife, now his son—the double blow was too much. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.

When he came to, he wept until no sound would come.

Later, I received a text from Corey—sent from a number I didn't recognize.

"How are my parents?"

"You didn't tell them the truth, did you?"

I smiled to myself and typed back: "Did exactly what you asked."

"That's my girl. Keep covering for me."

"Something happened at home. Don't you want to come back?"

"I'm busy. Whatever it is, don't bother me."

"Just handle it."

I sent another message.

Silence. Again.

Go ahead, Corey. Keep playing house with your little schoolmate.

A cold smile tugged at my lips.

After that, we stopped communicating entirely.

I only caught glimpses of his life through the videos she posted—the two of them having the time of their lives.

As for home...

Victor was a shell of himself after leaving the hospital. He wandered the house muttering to himself, lost in some private torment. It was obvious he was teetering on the edge of a complete breakdown.

Then one day, he called me to his room.

He pressed a sealed envelope into my hands, his eyes red-rimmed and hollow. "Ann... I can't hold on much longer. I'm afraid I'll lose my mind completely. Before that happens—take this. It's everything the Henson family owns."