Eleanor placed some documents on the table and poured me a glass of warm water. She then began saying, "Ivy, I have a few questions to ask you. Don't worry, just answer honestly."

The weather was chilly, so I wrapped my hands around the cup. The warmth gradually revived my icy fingers.

"What was your relationship with your husband like?" she asked.

"He treated me well, but…"

I covered my face with my hands, and my eyes welled up with tears again. As his image came to mind, tears streamed through my fingers, and I sobbed uncontrollably.

"It was all my fault. I could never meet his expectations. He always said no other wife would be as incompetent as me. I feel like such a failure…

"He said a woman should be capable of both hosting in the living room and cooking in the kitchen, but no matter how hard I tried, my cooking never satisfied him. I could barely earn a few thousand a month and was no help to his business…" I stammered.

Those were his exact words.

Chester was an expert at psychological manipulation. To him, I was a worthless woman, incapable of doing anything right and unwanted by anyone but him.

He dismissed every achievement I celebrated and the joy I experienced as insignificant. Meanwhile, he magnified all my flaws endlessly.

After we got married, he repeatedly badmouthed my closest friends and convinced me to cut ties with them. I was completely infatuated with him at the time, obeying his every word.

I then ended up with no friends.

Under his constant manipulation, I fell into deep self-doubt. My temper worsened, and I became a shadow of myself.

Eventually, I met Dr. Evelyn Callaghan, my mother-in-law's younger sister, at their family home. She was a well-known psychologist in the area.

She diagnosed me with bipolar disorder, prescribed medication, and gave me professional advice and guidance.

But despite undergoing repeated treatment, my condition didn't improve—it only got worse.

As tears streamed down my face, I confessed, "I have such a bad temper, and now I need medication… I'm such an unfit wife…"

Over the five years of our marriage, Chester constantly reminded me of my failures and inadequacies. I deliberately kept detailed records of it all.

Eleanor had taken my phone earlier, and I knew she must have read through the messages by now. My sobs grew louder and louder, echoing in the room.

"It's all my fault. If I hadn't left that unlabeled bottle there, he wouldn't have grabbed the wrong one and accidentally taken the sleeping pills…

"If I hadn't delayed him with my makeup… If I hadn't lost control of my emotions and argued with him on the road—if I hadn't let him kick me out of the car—maybe this wouldn't have happened…" I said between sobs.

The police must have reviewed the dashcam footage repeatedly after the accident, so what I said was nothing but the truth.

I pleaded with Eleanor through my tears, "Ms. Castillo, you must find out who switched my medication and who caused my husband's death!"

Eleanor scribbled a few notes in her notebook, sighed, and offered me a few comforting words before asking, "What was your relationship like with your mother-in-law?"

I froze for a moment, and I wiped my tears with the back of my hand.

"My mother-in-law treated me very well. When my parents passed away in an accident six years ago, they left me nothing but a large compensation payout.

"Knowing I had no other family, my mother-in-law treated me like her own daughter. She even spent over a million dollars to buy us a marital home in full and gave us an additional 200 grand as a wedding gift to renovate it. She gave me so much respect, and everyone has told me how lucky I was!"

Eleanor's sharp instincts caught onto a crucial detail, and she asked bluntly, "The marital home—was it in Chester's name alone?"

I nodded. "My mother-in-law said she felt for me and wanted to make sure everything was properly arranged before Chester married me.

"She believed women shouldn't worry about trivial matters like money and property—it would only make them age faster."

Eleanor raised her eyebrows slightly and let out a faint scoff, clearly unimpressed.

Afraid she might question the harmony in our family, I became visibly emotional and quickly added defensively, "They were always sincere in how they treated me! Even though I was never able to have children, they never blamed me. My mother-in-law always treated me like her own daughter!

"Three years ago, she even spent tens of thousands of dollars to buy several insurance policies for me!"

Eleanor repeated, "Your mother-in-law bought multiple insurance policies under your name?"

I nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes! She cared for me deeply and didn't even hesitate to spend that much money!"

My emotions grew more intense, and I was unwilling to accept any skepticism.

"So, I used the last bit of my savings to buy an insurance policy for both my mother-in-law and Chester to return the favor. I didn't even tell them about it!

"In our family, we've always thought about each other's well-being. We've always been close and harmonious!"

Since no evidence was found linking me to the purchase of Diazepam or any deliberate poisoning of Chester, Eleanor came personally to remove the handcuffs after 48 hours of questioning.

"Ivy, you're free to go," she said.

I lowered my gaze to my hands. On the ring finger of my left hand was a simple band, a ring that had cost me nearly my life to hold onto.

My hands were clean but neither slender nor soft.

Chester often complained that my cooking lacked variety and flavor, so I spent almost every evening after work in the kitchen. The constant exposure to grease and dishwashing detergent had ruined the skin on my hands long ago.

I raised my head, and tears again welled up in my eyes. I asked, "Ms. Castillo, can I see Chester?"

Eleanor hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"The accident was very severe. Mr. Paget's body had to be stitched back together. You should mentally prepare yourself…"

She led me to the forensic room, where the air was thick with the acrid tang of disinfectant, the metallic tang of blood, and a nauseating undercurrent of decay that made my stomach churn.

On the autopsy table lay Chester, covered in a white sheet. His form was barely recognizable as human. A blood-stained hand protruded from the sheet.

The matching ring he wore that was identical to mine had been removed by the forensic team. It was already cleaned and sealed in an evidence bag nearby. It left a faint pale mark around his finger.

With a loud thud, I fell to my knees on the cold floor of the forensic room. I curled up as I broke into uncontrollable sobs.

"My parents left me, and now you've left me too… Why?" My cries grew hoarse and desperate.

"Chester, you promised to take care of me for a lifetime. Why did you leave me alone? Why did you force me out of the car? Why didn't you take me with you? Why!"

Eleanor was clearly distressed by the scene. She came over to help me up, gently patting my back in an attempt to console me.

Just then, the sharp clack of high heels echoed from outside the room.

A woman in her 50s entered, wearing high heels and heavy makeup. Her tear-streaked face and disheveled hair betrayed her emotional state.

The person was my mother-in-law, Florence Callaghan.

Beside her stood a young woman in a loose sweater, holding a baby boy no older than a year in her arms.

On her left ring finger was a simple band, nearly identical to ours.