When I'm accompanying my daughter, Alina Stone, to the hospital for a chemotherapy session, an employee from the social security center calls me.

"Ms. Lewis, an error has occurred with the bank card that's set to receive your parents' pension. Please make sure to change to a new card."

I'm left feeling stunned.

My parents have been dead for three years. Why would they even receive more pension in the first place?

After asking the employee, I find out that my parents' pension has been wired into the bank card as normal throughout the years. My husband, Christian Stone, was the one who had previously updated the bank card details at the social security center.

Once I get home, I demand answers from Christian after playing him the recording of the phone call. He falls silent for a very long time before telling me the truth.

It turns out that he never registered my parents' death back then. Till now, their corpses have been stored in a freezer in my childhood home.

That bank card had received a total of 90 thousand dollars' worth of pension over the past three years. Christian has given all of the money to his ex-wife, Lydia Swanson, in order to support her financially.

But the thing is, he never gave me a single cent for Alina's treatment before.

I still remembered that I stood in the hospital corridor in a daze for nearly an hour after I ended the call from the social security center.

My husband, Christian Stone, had been laid off last year. Half of our household income was gone.

Not long ago, our daughter, Alina Stone, was diagnosed with cancer. Our already difficult lives became even more suffocating. I worked three jobs on my own, barely managing to keep us afloat.

The days were hard. But I kept telling myself we would make it through.

Now, all I felt was despair…

"Dear, don't get worked up. Just listen to me," Christian said, standing up.

I kept backing away. The man in front of me suddenly felt terrifying. Revolting.

I almost went mad. "Christian, if I hadn't found out today, how much longer were you going to lie to me?"

His expression tensed. He dropped to his knees again.

I didn't say anything more. Not because I didn't want to. I simply didn't have the strength.

Alina's treatment cost over 5,000 dollars a month just for chemotherapy.

During the day, I worked as a housekeeper for the rich. At night, I sold snacks at a night market. On the weekends, I hauled bricks at construction sites, competing with men for shifts.

Feeling sorry for me, Alina said, "Mom, it's all my fault. If I weren't sick, you wouldn't have to work so hard."

I swallowed my tears and forced a smile. "Don't worry. When your father finds a job, things will get better."

But now, I didn't know how to tell her that her father had never cared about her.

One time, Alina saw a box of cherries in the grocery store, and her eyes lit up. She was always so considerate and never asked for expensive things.

That small box cost 20 dollars. I was about to buy it, but Christian pulled me away. "We can't afford that. 20 dollars could cover groceries for a week."

In the end, I walked away with Alina.

Hah! He couldn't even spare 20 dollars for fruit. Yet, every month, he sent money to support his ex-wife—money that he had gotten by exploiting my parents after their deaths.

"How pathetic is she that she needs her ex-husband to support her?"

When I mentioned his ex-wife, Lydia Swanson, Christian finally looked up. "Her husband died young. She's raising a child alone. It's not easy."

"And it's easy for me and Alina?" I shouted.

At that moment, all the anger I had buried deep down broke free, shattering all restraint and rationality. I rushed forward and slapped him hard across the face.

His head snapped to the side from the blow. After a long pause, he muttered, "Stop making a scene. From now on, I'll leave you 500 dollars a month. Is that enough?"

My vision went dark with rage. I grabbed his collar and screamed, "Christian Stone, you bastard! I'm calling the police. I'm going to give my parents a proper burial. I'm going to expose everything you've done!"

Hearing that, he sprang to his feet and grabbed my throat. "Winona Lewis, what the hell is wrong with you? I'm your husband. If I get arrested for fraud, that 90 thousand dollars will become marital debt, and you'll have to pay it too. What will happen to Alina then? Do you want to watch her die?"

Just as I was about to pass out from suffocation, Christian's phone rang. He released me, panting, and reached for his phone. The moment he saw the name on the screen, the fury vanished from his face.

He turned away, lowering his voice. "Hello? Lyds, what's wrong? Slow down…"

Lydia's carefree voice came from the other end of the line. "Christian, Joey's school is organizing a summer camp. It costs one thousand dollars. All the other kids are going. If I don't sign him up, I'm afraid he'll feel left out…"

The moment Christian heard that, he rushed to reassure her. "Don't worry. I'll go withdraw the money right now. Wait for me."

He hung up, all the madness from earlier gone from his face. He grabbed his jacket and slammed the door behind him without looking back.

I collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air. But I still felt suffocated.

Christian was right. Legally, we were husband and wife. If the pension he had claimed by concealing my parents' death was identified as fraudulent, it would be hard for me to distance myself from it as his spouse.

And there would also be fines. In my current situation, where would I get the money to pay for all of it?

But if I didn't report him, was I supposed to just let my parents' bodies lie in a freezer? And let this animal go on as if nothing had happened?

My tears suddenly broke loose. I cried for my parents who had died in vain, for my daughter who was battling a serious illness, and for myself, for the ten years of my life I had wasted in this marriage.

I was going to get a divorce, even if it killed me.

It was 2:00 a.m. when Christian finally came home. He was carrying a takeout bag of tacos and set it on the table.

"Dear, you didn't eat tonight, right? Don't go hungry. It's bad for your health."

I stared at the food but didn't take it. My stomach churned.

"You gave her money again?"

Christian quickly waved his hands. "No! I just went to talk to Lydia. I told her not to overthink things. We should live according to our means, right? A one-thousand-dollar summer camp isn't something she should even consider."

I paused, thinking it through. Since there was an issue with the bank, this month's pension payment hadn't come through yet. So Christian really shouldn't have had extra cash on hand.

I looked at him. "Christian, when you first set your sights on my parents' pension, was it for Lydia? I want the truth."

He avoided my gaze. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke. "I swear it wasn't. At first, I just thought the extra 2,500 dollars would make things easier. I thought it would give you and Alina a better life. Lydia came later."

I wanted to laugh. He said he had thought of me and Alina. But in reality, I had never seen a single cent of my parents' pension.

I turned toward the closet and pulled out a few sets of clothes. "I'm going back home tomorrow."

His face fell instantly. "Why would you go back now? What if…"

"Relax. No one will find out. I just want to see my parents."

Christian let out a breath of relief. He stepped closer, trying to take my hand. But I dodged him.

He withdrew his hand awkwardly and said, "Dear, I'm sorry. I really just lost my head for a moment. But things have already reached this point. We can only make the best of it now.

"When Alina gets better, we'll immediately file for your parents' deaths and give them a proper burial. I promise I'll cut Lydia off. From now on, my heart will only hold you and our daughter."

I smiled. His promises had long since become worthless to me.

I packed quickly, got up, and said softly, "I'm heading out to set up my stall. Remember to take my place at the hospital tomorrow morning. Take good care of Alina."

He agreed readily. I didn't say more.

Downstairs, I walked toward the spot where I had parked my food cart. I was calculating how many portions I'd need to sell that night to cover Alina's hospital bill the next day.

But when I reached the spot, I froze. The cart was gone.

That cart was my means of livelihood. My heart dropped. I searched the area frantically. I even asked several neighbors, but they all shook their heads, saying they hadn't seen it.

Panic consumed me. With trembling hands, I called the police. They arrived quickly and pulled the security footage from the entrance of the market. When the video played, a chill ran down my spine.

The person who had taken my cart was none other than Christian. And the timestamp was right after he had received Lydia's call and rushed out the door.

A chill shot from the soles of my feet straight to my scalp.

Had Christian sold my cart to get that one thousand dollars for Lydia?

More than half an hour later, Christian finally showed up at the police station. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he explained to the officer he had noticed that one of the cart's wheels was broken. He claimed he had just taken it in for repair and that all of this was a misunderstanding.

His expression didn't change as he spoke, but he couldn't meet my eyes. I knew he was lying again.

"Christian, that cart was my livelihood. How could you just sell it? For Lydia, you sold my cart today. Tomorrow, will you sell the house too? Do you have any conscience at all?"

His face stiffened, then twisted with anger. "Winona, why are you acting like a shrew, accusing your own husband in front of all these people? Besides, Lydia and I are just friends. If she's struggling a little, what's wrong with me helping her out?"

The more he spoke, the more agitated he became. He stepped forward and grabbed my arm. "Come on. Let's go home. Stop embarrassing yourself!"

Even at that moment, he spoke of betrayal as if he were righteous.

My stomach churned. Coldness spread throughout my entire body, right down to my fingertips. The man I had shared a bed with for ten years now felt like a stranger. He was utterly despicable.

"Christian, listen carefully. I can't live like this for even one more day. I want a divorce. And one more thing. If my cart isn't returned to its exact spot tomorrow, you'll regret it!"

Christian's pupils shrank as he registered the threat in my words. Before he could grab me again, I shook off his hand and rushed out of the police station.

The night wind cut across my face, sharp and stinging. But I didn't feel the cold.

I walked aimlessly for a long time until my legs went weak. Only then did I realize I was standing outside my best friend's house. When I raised my hand to press the doorbell, my fingers were still trembling.

Celeste Winter opened the door in her pajamas. The moment she saw me, her brows knitted together. "Winona, what are you doing here?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My tears were first to fall.

Seeing my swollen eyes, she froze, looking concerned. "Come in. Let's talk inside."

Celeste looked at my disheveled appearance and sighed. In the end, she didn't bring up our falling-out years ago.

Back then, she had caught Christian entangled with Lydia and warned me about it. But I was blinded by love and accused her of meddling. After a big fight, we drifted apart.

Now, as I sobbed uncontrollably, she simply listened in silence.

Her eyes reddened as she gripped my hand tightly. "Winnie, it's not too late. You have to divorce him. I'll help you find a lawyer. We'll figure out Alina's medical bills together."

I was so overwhelmed. I didn't know what to say.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Celeste and I both froze, glancing toward the door. At this hour, who could it be?

The door opened, revealing Christian standing on the other side. He dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

"Dear, please come home. Stop making a scene, okay? I'm begging you. Look, I brought your cart back. I didn't sell it. I really just took it for repairs."

I looked toward where he was pointing and saw my food cart.

Celeste stepped in front of me, asking sharply, "Christian, what game are you playing now?"

Christian ignored her, looking at me and crying instead. "Dear, I swear, I'll never contact Lydia again. Let's just be together properly, okay? Don't divorce me, alright? Alina can't grow up without a father…"

Seeing my hesitation, Celeste grabbed my arm urgently. "Winnie, don't fall for his bullshit again. Don't go soft now!"

I turned to her and gave her a small smile.

The next second, a loud slap landed on Christian's face.

"Christian, listen carefully. This divorce is happening!"

The commotion drew neighbors out into the hallway.