I quietly excused myself from the study before I broke down completely in front of her. I returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner for the family. Exhaustion washed over me in heavy waves. I was drained from planning the party but I still had to cook dinner. The role of the family slave never ended.
While I stirred the pot, Aileen walked into the kitchen. Her presence was unexpected. She smiled softly and offered to help with dinner. Guests were never allowed to work, yet her smile was gentle, persuasive. I was too tired to refuse. I needed help.
We moved around the kitchen together, placing dishes on trays and arranging the table. It felt almost normal for a moment, almost comforting. As I went to fetch the remaining dishes, I whispered, "I'll be back," giving her a polite smile before walking away.
A few minutes later we all sat at the table for dinner. Aileen introduced herself formally to my father-in-law. She spoke confidently about her previous work and her role in the company. They discussed design and projects while I sat quietly, as I always did.
Just as I reached for my spoon, my mother-in-law lifted hers first. She placed the bite into her mouth.
Then, suddenly, she stiffened.
Her hand flew to her throat. Her eyes widened. Her face flushed deep red. She gasped, choking violently as if something sharp was lodged in her throat. Panic rippled through the table. My father-in-law jumped up, catching her as she staggered. Her hand gripped his sleeve desperately.
She looked at me.
Her eyes were wild. She stared as if she wanted to burn a hole through me. In that moment, I felt her hatred slam into me like a physical force.
And then, without warning, she collapsed.
Aileen rushed down the stairs, her footsteps sharp against the tiles, one hand already digging into her purse. She pulled out a pen-shaped injector and dropped to her knees beside my mother-in-law.
"Is she allergic to anything?" she asked, voice steady but eyes wide.
"Peanuts," Ava answered immediately. Her hands were shaking so badly she kept wiping them on her skirt. Fear clung to her like sweat.
"This is epinephrine," Aileen said as she slammed the injector into my mother-in-law's thigh. "It'll help stabilize her for now, but a doctor needs to examine her."
I stood frozen, my heart thundering against my ribs. I knew exactly what this scene looked like. Just right after my mother-in-law had said it would cost her life for me to become a member of the family. I had actually made an attempt on her life. I was the devil in the book right now and nothing I was going to say in my defense will matter.
Still trembling, I returned to the dining table. I lifted her plate and inhaled. The smell hit me instantly, peanuts. Strong and unmistakable. But no other dish on the table smelled that way. Only hers. Someone had added peanut oil to her food… and because I was in charge of the cooking, I was already the culprit.
Aileen came behind me, her tone gentle. "It must have been a mistake. I mix up oils when I'm stressed."
"We do not have any products containing peanuts in this house," I replied quietly, forcing my voice not to break.
Later, my mother-in-law regained consciousness. The moment she opened her eyes, she demanded that the doctor leave. My father-in-law instructed me to prepare porridge for her when she woke, so I obeyed immediately. The last thing I needed was another accusation of negligence.
When I entered her room with the tray, the hatred in her eyes rose like a storm brewing fresh thunder.
"I brought this porridge dish for you—"
Before I could finish, she slapped the tray out of my hands. The plates shattered on the floor, the porridge splashing against my legs and the tiles.
"Did you want to kill me so badly?" she spat. "Now that I survived, you must be very disappointed."
Her words pierced me, sharp as broken glass.
Jeremy was standing in the corner. He stepped forward. "Mom, how can you say that?"
"Jeremy, open your eyes and see the witch you married!" she hissed.
My throat tightened. I swallowed back tears. "Mother, there has been a misunderstanding—"
Before I could finish my statement she lunged at me and struck me across the face, the slap loud enough to echo off the walls.
"Mother!" Jeremy raised his voice. The pain of having to watch his wife get humiliated everyday was not so bearable.
"You must have poisoned this one too," she said, pointing at the food now scattered across the floor.
"No…I didn't," I whispered with a shaky voice.
"Then prove it," she snapped. "Eat the food."
Jeremy stepped in front of me. "No, Mom. Stop it— you are going too far." He turned to me, "You don't have to do this, Katy."
But I raised a hand to silence him. My pride was bruised, my heart crushed, but I needed this. I needed to walk out of this room with whatever dignity I could salvage.
"I will do it," I said.
I crouched down slowly, my knees brushing the cold floor. Jeremy watched me helplessly. My mother-in-law watched me with satisfaction. Every inch of me trembled, not from fear of the food, but from the humiliation, being forced to eat from the floor like an animal.
Still, I scooped a small portion of the porridge from the tiles and lifted it to my mouth.
I chewed on it. The food felt gritty between my teeth, it had mixed with sand on the floor. I swallowed hard, forcing it down my throat.
I felt wronged, so deeply wronged I could barely breathe. But what hurt me even more was Jeremy's silence. His hesitation. The doubt in his eyes. My husband, the one person meant to shield me, support me, protect me… could not even defend me properly.