On our thirtieth wedding anniversary, my husband’s stepsister sent my niece to sleep with a group of second-generation playboys.

My niece—six months pregnant—became the sacrificial pawn in their sick gender-reveal game! They cut her open and stole her baby!

I pressed murder charges against Schandra Kirkwood.

Milton swore, “This time, Schandra really went too far. Don’t worry. I’ll support you. I’ll hire the best lawyer we can get.”

After thirty years of a marriage built on nothing but resentment, that was the first time he stood with me.

Believing he had finally changed, I proceeded with the lawsuit with full confidence.

But the night before we went to court, he slammed his car into mine and forced me to give it up.

“Schandra’s fifty and still single. Everyone’s already talking about her. Listen, Meridel, she can’t afford another scandal. You understand what I’m saying, right?”

What I understood then was that he was the same man I had always known. Though I was covered in blood, I held my ground.

“I don’t fucking care! I will make that criminal pay!”

Right after that, he hit play on a video.

On the screen, my son and my daughter were stuck out in some godforsaken desert. Snakes and bugs crawled all around the twins.

“These kids are yours, Meridel; you raised them yourself. Their coming-of-age is right around the corner. You’re really gonna let them die out there just because you’re stubborn?”

“Be smart,” he warned. “Once this is over, we can finally live in peace.”

And just like that, he won. I dropped the lawsuit that same day.

But I didn’t want to live with him anymore. All I wanted was to get revenge—and leave for good!

1

Meridel’s POV

“Congratulations, Meridel! You passed the test! When can you start?”

“Seven days from now.”

“All right. We look forward to having you on the team!”

I ended the call, filed a request with the trust office to withdraw funds, and went straight to the funeral home.

My niece’s husband couldn’t make it back in time, so the responsibility for her arrangements fell to me.

I hadn’t expected, though, that the moment I pushed open the door, I’d find Schandra and Milton standing over my niece’s body. Schandra brazenly held up her phone to snap pictures of Carolee.

My niece’s body hadn’t even been prepared yet. The mess around her—her split-open belly—screamed of the torment she had endured before death.

A sharp pain gripped my chest. I rushed forward, shoving Schandra aside. “Who permitted you to take a photo of my niece? Get out!”

I hadn’t pushed hard, but she let herself fall to the floor.

Almost the moment she hit the floor, Milton’s palm landed across my face.

If this had happened when we were younger, I would’ve hit him back tenfold.

He wouldn’t get mad then. Instead, he’d laugh with a strange light in his eyes, pull me into his arms, and ask if I’d had enough fun hitting him.

But now, he struck me and immediately had his people pin me down.

“Meridel, Schandra only wanted to take a memorial portrait for your niece. Why did you have to lash out so violently? Apologize to her. Now!”

Apologize?

My niece’s murderer was dressed to the nines and only came to parade her arrogance.

That made me laugh coldly. “Murderers don’t apologize, so why should I?”

“She dares talk about remembrance?” I scoffed in bitterness. “If she truly wants to honor the dead, then let her suffer every bit of pain my niece endured until that murderer dies!”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than a kick caught the back of my knee. I buckled and crashed to the floor.

Milton loomed over me, saying, “Meridel, Schandra saved my life. No one is allowed to treat her badly.”

I lifted my head, glaring up at him. “And you’re so certain it was her who donated the kidney to you?”

His reply was firm, almost cutting. “She would never lie to me. Now, apologize to her!”

Before I could even resist, a burly bodyguard fisted my hair and smashed my head against the floor again and again.

Only when my head cracked and warm blood trickled down my face did Milton raise a hand to stop him.

Schandra crouched beside me, feigning concern as she pretended to help me up. She leaned close, whispering into my ear.

“See? Thirty years. Even if you bore him children, you still haven’t won his heart.

“Bitch, the moment I came back, you should have given up as his wife. Clearly, you don’t know your place. Well then, don’t blame me.”

Her taunting words made me want to rip her apart.

Luckily for her, Milton didn’t give me a chance.

Terrified I’d explode the way I used to, he scooped her into his arms and hurried out.

I watched his resolute back retreating from me, and at last, I couldn’t hold back.

I broke down in tears.

Meridel’s POV

That evening, I came home holding my niece’s urn.

Milton met me at the door. Without a word, I slapped the divorce papers onto his chest.

His face darkened. “Is this really necessary? All I asked was that you drop the lawsuit and apologize. Why blow this up like it’s a declaration of war?”

I met his eyes with calmness. “Sign it, then give it to me.”

He ground his teeth in rage. “Meridel, you really can’t stop, can you?”

“You’re in your fifties,” he continued. “Jeez, stop acting like some impulsive kid, trotting out divorce at the slightest quarrel. You think playing hard to get is clever?”

Milton and I had loved and fought each other for thirty years; the word divorce had never once been spoken between us.

To him, this sudden divorce agreement was nothing but playing hard to get.

Even our children, who had come out of their rooms after hearing the argument, saw it the same way.

My son Emerson sneered. “Mom, at your age, stop making a scene. Look at yourself. Who’s going to want you if you divorce Dad?”

I looked down at myself. I had roughened hands. I was wearing a cheap dress with dried blood staining the fabric.

He was right; I looked a mess.

But still…

“I wasn’t always like this. I did it for you,” I argued.

“Save the guilt trip,” my daughter Enid cut in. “You chose to be our nanny when your family went bankrupt and you had nothing to rely on. You were terrified Dad would leave you.”

Her contempt wounded me deeper than any physical pain.

As I stared at their faces—all the same as Milton’s, a cold emptiness spread through me.

Apparently, in their eyes, I was nothing but a lowly, unpaid nanny.

They were a family of three, while I was just an outsider.

And yet, I had given up pursuing justice for my niece to try to save them from the desert Milton had trapped them in.

How foolish that now seemed.

Fine then. If I were an outsider, then I could leave without ties. I could exact my revenge without scruples.

I took back the divorce papers and, in front of them, I crossed out the section that made me responsible for the children.

Emerson laughed. “You’re playing at this like it’s real. You clearly don’t know your limits.”

Enid shook her head in disappointment. “Mom, honestly, you come back and make everyone miserable. Why don’t you just move out and let Aunt Schandra live here?”

Milton’s face went dark. “Fine. I’ll have Schandra send your niece off properly tomorrow. For God’s sake, Meridel, give me a break.”

With that, they each retreated to their rooms.

From the start, not one of them bothered to ask about the bruise on my forehead, the one I hadn’t had time to treat.

Early the next morning, I held a farewell ceremony for Carolee.

Schandra showed up uninvited, as ostentatious as ever, decked out in finery.

“Meridel,” she cooed, fluttering around the coffin. “I came to pay my respects. It’s such a tragedy—poor girl died horribly.”

I pointed toward the door. “Get out. Don’t force my hand, Schandra.”

She just snorted. “God, you really are shameless, Meridel. Don’t act like I didn’t have reason to do what I did.”

She fiddled with her phone, her thumbs flying. Before long, whispers rippled through the small crowd gathered for the farewell.

“Who would’ve thought Carolee would go so far?”

“She was pregnant and behaving like that. No wonder she got herself killed.”

“The Yandells are done for. Kids without proper upbringing turn out like this.”

A sick dread crawled up my spine. I checked my phone, and blood ran cold through me in an instant!

Schandra had not only taken photos after my niece died… She’d even recorded the monsters as they violated Carolee! To make matters worse, Schandra posted everything online!

I looked at my niece’s ruined image on the screen and felt my chest split open.

The internet’s comments were obscene. I had never imagined my quiet, well-behaved niece would be humiliated even after she died…

And the woman who caused it all—she smiled as if proud of herself!

Rage swallowed me; I grabbed the nearest cup and smashed it to pieces.

Rage swallowed me. I smashed the glass beside me and, with the jagged shard, I struck toward Schandra’s chest.

“You deserve to die!” I spat.

Meridel’s POV

The scene descended into chaos.

Milton, still vigorous for his age, kicked me hard and sent me sprawling.

Emerson held her blood-smeared aunt steady while glaring at me.

“Are you out of your mind?! Aunt Schandra came here with good intentions, and you treat her like this instead of thanking her!” he barked.

‘Thank her?’ I thought, stunned.

The murderer inflicted a secondary harm on her victim, and I, the only family member present, was supposed to be fucking grateful?!

Enid clapped a hand to her aunt’s chest, her eyes rimmed red.

“Mom, you’re being absolutely ridiculous! If anything happens to Aunt Schandra, we definitely won’t let you off!” she snarled.

The murderer only suffered an injury. And yet, my husband and my children had lost all composure over her and even lashed out at me.

Was that what they called being reasonable?

I coughed up a mouthful of blood and fixed my gaze on Schandra.

That murderer should be the one to thank me. I’d been exhausted and off my aim these past two days. If not for that, that shard of glass would’ve found her carotid.

The farewell ceremony ended hastily. Afterwards, I forced myself to the hospital.

The doctor flipped through the scans. “Two broken ribs. They’ll need to be stabilized for healing. Do you have any family with you?”

When I thought of Milton and our two children, my heart went cold.

“No, I don’t have any family,” I answered flatly.

I managed my wounds alone and collected my own prescriptions.

As I was leaving, Milton’s voice reached me like an accusation.

“Meridel?! You actually followed Schandra to the hospital?! Perfect timing! She nearly didn’t make it because of you. Go to her now and apologize!” he ordered.

With that, he grabbed my arm and dragged me straight into Schandra’s hospital room.

Emerson and Enid were there, attending her with solicitous concern.

A stranger would have thought Schandra was their real mother.

Emerson frowned. “Dad, why did you bring her here? She stabbed Aunt Schandra deep enough!”

Enid put up both of her hands in a protective gesture. “If you lay a finger on Aunt Schandra, I’ll disown you as my mother!” she threatened.

These were the children I had carried for ten months and raised despite the challenges.

Seeing them turn against me, I felt nothing but a coldness that reached my bones.

‘Thank goodness,’ I thought, ‘I’ll leave them soon and start a new life.’

“Had I known you couldn’t tell right from wrong, I should’ve left you to die in the desert!” I snapped.

That remark set the twins off into furious shouting.

“How dare you say that! If you hadn’t insisted on suing Aunt Schandra, would we have had to suffer there, huh?” one of them spat.

“You were the one making trouble for no reason and dragging us into this! You should count yourself lucky we haven’t come for you!” the other snapped.

Making trouble for no reason? I couldn’t believe my ears.

“She killed your cousin, the only blood left of your uncle! Carolee’s the one you treated as a sister when you were young!” I cried.

But my son’s expression only grew more contemptuous. “That kind of woman slept around with men. Good riddance! If you want to stir up trouble for her, go ahead, but don’t drag us down with you!”

My daughter echoed him. “Exactly. She wasn’t married yet and got pregnant—was that a decent woman? Aunt Schaundra was just trying to introduce Carolee to some suitable men so her baby would have a father. That niece of yours was the one who wanted attention and seduced those men! She got what she deserved!”

Carolee’s husband’s identity had been kept secret; they had to marry in private.

Who would have thought my own family would use that to slander Carolee?

The fact that Schandra could speak such clumsy lies and that they would believe them was unbearable.

I snapped. One hard slap landed on my daughter’s face.

“You’re a woman yourself! How can you speak of Carolee like that?!”

Enid pressed her trembling fingers to her cheek and retorted, “If she was that bold, why would she be scared about what people say? There are worse things online than what I say!”

It hit me then—Schandra’s posts were still spreading; the whole internet was condemning my niece.

I snapped my head to Schandra.

“Delete those posts now, Schandra, or I’ll kill you!” I warned.

She just smiled faintly. “I can delete them. Sure. But you put me in this state, Meridel. Don’t you think you owe me something?”

“What do you want?” I asked.

She answered coldly, “Kneel, apologize, and beg me.”

Her demand was absurd, but no one objected.

Milton even said, “Schandra’s too kind. She didn’t make you pay tenfold.”

My children egged me on. “What are you waiting for? Hurry up! Apologize and get out! Do you want us to make you do it?”

My brother had entrusted his daughter to my care before he died.

While she was alive, I couldn’t protect her; after she died, I couldn’t even preserve her reputation.

Overcome by humiliation and guilt, I burst into tears.

Under their cruel stares, I slowly sank to my knees.

With a dull thud, my knees hit the floor. In an instant, pain lanced through them.

“Please… delete the posts,” I begged.

Schandra’s expression brightened with satisfaction. “What did you say? I can’t hear you. Besides, I told you—get down on your knees and beg.”

Pride mattered, but I had already failed my brother and my niece.

If begging could recover a shred of decency for them, I would do it.

I clenched my hands until my palms hurt as I bent forward.

When Emerson and Enid watched me lower myself like that, their voices grated like fingernails on glass.

“You should’ve done this earlier.”

“Beg twice more. Let it make up for the slap you gave me.”

My recently treated ribs ached fiercely, but the pain was nothing compared to the torment in my chest.

I closed my eyes and lowered my head, begging, “Please… Please delete those posts…”