A Mother’s Pain, A Daughter’s Revenge

I was out of the country for a month doing an exhibition when my mother suddenly hit me on chat, saying she wanted to go home. My mother's deaf, so she typed out a message using handwriting input, [Ysabell, I am just an old country bumpkin, can't get used to living in the city. I'm much happier back in the village.]

I immediately called her for a video chat and noticed what looked like a handprint on her right cheek. Before I could ask what was going on, she hurriedly hung up. On social media, our live-in housekeeper posted a picture of a Mercedes. In the corner of the photo was a rag that looked suspiciously like the scarf I gave my mother.

I called my husband, Jude Zaretsky, to ask what had happened. Alas, he just laughed at my wild guesses. "Jared is a grown man, why would he steal something from an old lady? You're just being paranoid, aren't you?"

However, I heard a man's voice in the background over the phone. "You old hag! If you don't clean the toilet properly, no food for you!"

The more I thought about it, the more something seemed off. I checked the security camera footage, which I had never bothered to look at before and it was completely black. The worst part was that I heard a faint whimper.