I had always known my mother-in-law didn't like me. From the very first day I met her, she made that painfully clear. But over the years, I thought she had softened. That maybe, just maybe, she had come to accept me.

Was I right? Let's find out.

I had been married to Jake for five years now, and in all that time, I had never quite figured out his mother, Martha.

She wasn't the warm, doting mother-in-law I had hoped for. When we first met, she barely hid her disapproval. She had told Jake, in front of me, that he could do better. That I wasn't the kind of woman he should be spending the rest of his life with.

That stung.

But I loved Jake, and he loved me.

So, despite her cold remarks and passive-aggressive comments, I held my tongue and stayed civil.

Over the years, she stopped making cutting remarks at family dinners. Stopped comparing me to Jake's ex-girlfriends.

Eventually, she even started being polite. Cordial, even.

I had believed that she had finally accepted me.

But what happened that night made me rethink everything.

It had been a long day at work, and I had just kicked off my heels when my phone rang.

It was Martha.

I sighed and picked up. "Hello?"

Her voice sounded weak. "Amelia, dear… I hate to bother you, but I'm not feeling well."

Concern replaced my exhaustion. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, I just feel so dizzy. I think it's my blood pressure again." She sighed dramatically. "I was hoping you could pick up my medication from the pharmacy and bring it over. I wouldn't ask, but Jake mentioned he's working late."

I frowned. "He's not working late."

"Oh? Well, maybe I misheard," she said quickly. "But I'd really appreciate the help, dear."

I glanced outside. The wind howled, rattling the windows. It was late, and the weather was awful.

But she was my husband's mother. And despite our complicated history, I didn't want to ignore her if she truly needed help.

"Of course," I said. "I'll head out now."

"Thank you, sweetheart," she said sweetly. "Take your time."

I grabbed my coat and car keys and headed to the nearest pharmacy. The roads were slick with rain coming down in sheets.

By the time I got the medication and started driving toward Martha's house, my nerves were on edge.

Then, out of nowhere, my car sputtered and died.

No, no, no. Not now.

I tried the ignition again. Nothing.

I quickly grabbed my phone and called Jake because he was the only person who could help me at that point.

But it went straight to voicemail.

I gritted my teeth and tried again. No answer.

Frustration bubbled up inside me. What was he doing that he couldn't pick up?

With no other option, I called a cab, deciding I'd go home first and deal with Martha's request later. The storm was getting worse, and I just wanted to get inside, dry off, and figure out what to do next.

When the cab finally pulled up to my house, I was exhausted and soaked to the bone. I stepped out, shivering, and then…

I saw them.

A pair of bright red high heels neatly placed on my doormat.

Those weren't mine.

I swallowed hard as my mind tried to make sense of the situation.

Martha's call. My car breaking down. Jake not answering.

It wasn't a coincidence. Martha wanted me out of the house.

And now, I was back too soon.

I clenched my fists, my heart pounding as I reached for the front door.

Whatever was happening inside… I was about to find out.

With a deep breath, I shoved the key into the lock and pushed the door open.