To Alex's surprise, I just walked away.

Alex was a buddy from college. Back then, my mom hustled extra hard to make ends meet, worried I'd run short. Not much of a scholar, but she cooked up a storm. She set up an ice jelly stand outside my university. Killer taste, spotless setup, always drew a crowd.

I was the it-girl at school—looks and brains. That rubbed some folks the wrong way. They couldn't touch me, so they dissed my mom instead.

They'd trash-talk her at the stall, spewing nonsense about "country folks craving city life."

Alex wasn't having any of it. He shooed them off and got his orphanage crew to watch over Mom.

He'd always say how he envied me for having a mom like mine.

We started hanging out, sharing meals, and yeah, fell hard for each other.

He promised when he made it big, he'd make sure we never had to deal with bullies again.

I thought we'd stick together, climb out of the gutter side by side, and be each other's rock.

But no, the minute he got a taste of cash, he started seeing himself as above the rest, running those pathetic 'poverty tests.'

I snagged a furnished apartment, almost as nice as a hotel. Moved in with just my suitcase—no fuss.

There was a tiny dressing room I didn't need, so I turned it into a little shrine for Mom's stuff, like she was still around.

Maybe she'd drop by in my dreams, or around our special days.

Took a day to get my head straight, then hit the job hunt.

After marrying, I'd faded into the background, my resume a ghost town.

Sure, I worked behind the scenes, unpaid, invisible at the company. To the world, I was just Alex's wife, the lady living off his wallet.

Never thought Alex would show up at my new place today.

He looked angry, so surely I wouldn't have any thought that he was here to ask me home.

He barged in, furious, scanning the room like he was looking for something, then snapped, "Where's your mom?"

It caught me off guard and sounded almost like a curse, "What are you talking about?"

He shifted gears, annoyed, "I asked where your mom went. Get her out here, now."

That set me off, "Joking about her now? Really? I told you, the night you played your sick game, she died in that landslide."

Cecelia stepped out from behind him. "Alex, see? These lowlifes, always scheming, have no morals. Even faking their own deaths for a buck."

I'd ignored her cheap shots before, but dissing my mom to my face? Couldn't let that slide.

I slapped her quick, "What your mouth!"

I was too fast for her to react, so she just took it.

But then Alex slapped me back, harder. Even without a mirror, I felt my cheek puff up.

"What right do you have to hit Cecelia?"

Alex was unapologetic and grilled me, "Do you realize how much your mom crossed the line? Using my name, claiming she was my mother-in-law on a live stream. It's messed up our business. Suppliers and clients think I'm playing both sides. Now we're losing advertisers and facing returns left and right."

He shoved his phone at me, showing a live stream of a middle-aged woman, anime effects and all. Looked a bit like Mom, but her face was hidden.

She was selling what Alex sold, but at prices way lower than they were on Alex's livestream channel.

She said as Alex's mother-in-law, she didn't want customers to be taken advantage of by big streamers, claiming she was cutting out the middleman to give folks a fair deal.

Cecelia chimed in, all fake concern for Alex, "You haven't worked for years. It's been tough on Alex alone. If you needed money, why not just talk to him? Why pull a stunt that hurts everyone?"

Alex backed her up, "Your mom's been hustling at that stall forever, could only see the small gains."

His tone now, just like those girls back then, slagging my mom... It felt unreal, like déjà vu.

For a second, I wondered if the brave guy who stood up for me and my mom was just a figment of my imagination.

Cecelia, all high and mighty. "Get your mom out here, let her clear the air. Say she did it to cash in on Alex's fame. None of this mess is on us."

My heart sank watching them tag-team like this.

My husband, my supposed lifelong partner, here accusing me and my mom without a shred of proof.

He'd written off my mom without even checking the facts.

Mom always treated him like her own. Felt bad for him losing his folks young, sometimes put him first before me.

She'd say we were all he had. "If we don't love him, who will? Poor guy."

Ha, guess he didn't see us as his only family after all.

Before I could get a word in, Cecelia was rifling through the dressing room, throwing Mom's stuff around like she'd uncovered a crime. "Your mom's clothes are all here, and you still claim she's gone?"

"Hands off my mom's things!" I lunged to grab the stuff from her.

Alex grabbed me firmly. "Tell me where your mom is, or I'm not letting you go."

Cecelia tore at Mom's clothes, spiteful, "You think you can hide out, live it up while others suffer? Not on my watch!"

"Stop, just stop!"

I watched, heartbroken, as Cecelia trashed what little I had left of Mom. I pleaded with Alex, "Make her stop!"

Alex cold as ice, "Then call your mom out."

Rage mixed with helplessness, I said, "I told you, she's gone. Why would you think it's her in the video?"

Alex claimed, "She was live streaming right there on the street. Cecelia's girls saw it."

Glaring at Cecelia, memories and realizations flashed through my mind, but I was too upset, too constrained, to think straight.

As we talked, Cecelia wrecked all of Mom's belongings, stomping on them and spitting on them.

I snapped like a frantic beast and bit Alex hard, no holding back.

I almost tore off a chunk. I used to cry over his smallest cuts, but now, the pain drove me to bite with all I had.

Alex yelped in pain, let me go. I shoved Cecelia away and stopped her from ruining Mom's things.

Enduring the pain, Alex grabbed me, forced me down, and made me kneel before Cecelia. "You've bullied her again and again. Apologize to her now!"

At that moment, the pain didn't even register. The man in front of me wasn't my husband, he was a monster wearing human skin.

Seeing no reaction from me, he grabbed my head and smashed it against the ground repeatedly. Eventually, he stopped.

He stood up, his voice ice cold. "Think we can't track down your mom? I'll call the cops, plaster her face online, and offer a reward. We'll find her, no doubt!"

After his threat, he helped Cecelia up, looking all worried for her, and then they left.

I was left in tears, clutching those trampled relics of my mom. Even those felt like they were slipping away from me.

Alex threw a sneer back at me, "No need to play it up, you'd make a great actress."

Cecelia chimed in, sweet as poison, "Maybe she's just jealous seeing you protect me, doesn't want to let go."

Alex scoffed, "You think she's in your league?" Then he ushered Cecelia into the elevator.

I sat there a long while before I gathered the ruined mementos into a box. I took them downstairs, burned them, and buried the ashes.

Guess this is a different kind of rest-in-peace.

Just as I buried the last of my mom's things, I turned to find Alex not far off, his eyes wide with panic.

He managed a shaky, "Lily, I... I'm sorry. I never thought she'd actually... you know, from that night."

Turns out, he knew the truth after that bit of while.

Turns out, it wasn't hard for him to figure out the real story.

I scoffed, "What? As long as she survived, your little game was fine? How much money do you need to stop these cruel games?"

These games, they belong in thrillers, not real life, where trust funds play with lives.

Alex and I, we're new to big money. Sure, we hit a million on streams, but the real cut? Just a slice. Costs of glam giveaways, hosts, platform cuts—it adds up.

He failed to see, bigger broadcasts meant bigger risks for a startup like ours, teetering between chance and collapse.

Some small tricks he encountered like someone cashing in his fame might lead to the destruction of our company.

He bit his lip and tried to defend himself, "I was drunk, got carried away with the cheers..."

I almost laughed, "Got carried away? She loved you like her own. Couldn't you, at the very least, treat her with basic decency? Remember when we were nobodies and you stood up for what's right? What happened to that guy?"

I thought I was numb to the pain, but the memories stung, bringing fresh tears.

He was a mess, scrambling for words, "I... I didn't mean for this."

I'd held back these words for so long, but now they poured out, "This game, this test of yours—if it was just that and you were so absurd like that, she passed when she said she would go get you, right? Why push her to actually show up that night?"