My mother-in-law was in the hospital. That night, while my husband, Jason, was supposedly watching over her, he reached out and pulled off her oxygen mask. He killed his own mother! I saw the whole thing. I’d just stepped out and came right back, standing just outside the door. Pure terror washed over me. Only one thought screamed in my head: Run! Then Jason's voice, chillingly cold, came from behind me. "So, you saw." 1. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I forced my face into a look of confusion. "Saw what? I forgot my house keys, just came back for them. How's Mom doing?" He didn't say anything, just stared, his eyes bloodshot, searching my face for any sign I was lying. I walked up, patted his shoulder, trying to sound soothing. "Look at you, your eyes are so red. You must be exhausted. Maybe I should stay tonight instead?" As I finished speaking, I pretended to head towards the hospital room. But Jason blocked my way. "No need. Here are the keys." I let out a tiny, silent sigh of relief. Then his next words sent ice crawling up my spine. "It's late. Let me drive you home." My smile froze for a second, but my brain kicked in fast. "No, Mom needs someone here. You stay with her. I'll just grab a rideshare." He looked down, his face hidden in the shadows, his expression unreadable. "Don't worry," I added. "The nurse does rounds early tomorrow morning." He gave a noncommittal "Mm-hmm." Then, "Send me a pic of the license plate when you get a ride. Just to be safe." "Okay, don't worry," I said. I booked a ride home on my phone. The driver arrived quickly. As I got in, I caught a glimpse of a figure flashing past a window up on the hospital floor. Just as I thought. He was still watching me. I screenshotted the car info and sent it to Jason. He texted back, "Let me know when you're home." The night was pitch black. The driver and I rode in heavy silence. As we reached a main intersection, I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it to the driver. "Hey, can you keep driving past this address? Just hit 'arrived' when you get there." A low voice spoke from the front seat. "Why aren't you going home?" The driver turned his head. It was Jason's face! 2. A scream ripped through my throat. I jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. I was in my pajamas, lying in our master bedroom bed. "You're awake? Come get some breakfast." Jason pushed the bedroom door open and pulled back the curtains. Sunlight flooded the room, chasing away the shadows. I stared at his face, unable to tell dream from reality. He chuckled softly and tapped my nose. "Still want to sleep in?" His touch felt real, warm. It was him, the same gentle, doting husband. I sat up and wrapped my arms around his waist. "I had a horrible nightmare. It scared me to death." He stroked my hair. "It's okay now. Get up, I'm just going out to grab some groceries." I quickly stopped him. "Doesn't Mom need someone watching her at the hospital?" "What are you talking about? Mom's not in the hospital," Jason said, squeezing my hand affectionately. "Get up, okay? I'll be back soon." I nodded, let go, and gave his cheek a quick kiss. My head felt heavy, fuzzy. Only after Jason left did I slowly drag myself out of bed. In the wedding photo on the nightstand, Jason looked suave and gentle. I was smiling ear-to-ear, pure happiness. Sitting on the edge of the bed, possessed by some strange impulse, I called my mother-in-law. If she was okay, then what I saw at the hospital had to be a nightmare. Truthfully, she and I didn't have the best relationship. It hit rock bottom after she got rid of my cat. We barely spoke day-to-day. The phone rang for a long time. Just as I was about to hang up, thinking no one would answer, a woman's voice came on the line. "Hello? Who is this?" I immediately hung up and checked the contact again. It was definitely my mother-in-law's number. But that voice… it wasn't my mother-in-law at all! Since my father-in-law passed away, she'd always been a loner, rarely had friends over. But I quickly tried to rationalize. Maybe it was some distant relative I didn't know about visiting. I dialed again. The same woman's voice answered. I spoke first this time. "Hi, is my mother-in-law there?" There was a long pause, then her tone turned angry. "Jessica? Why are you calling me? What do you mean, 'is your mother-in-law there'? Oh, I get it. You're calling just to piss me off, aren't you!" My mind went blank for a second. Can someone please tell me what is going on? My mother-in-law is seventy. Her voice is old, sharp, shrill. The voice on the phone sounded young! But how did she recognize my voice and know my name? Ignoring her nasty tone, driven by a huge wave of confusion, I blurted out, "Mom? Are you feeling okay?" "You damn bitch! Are you wishing I was sick? My son must have been blind to pick you! I should have fought tooth and nail against it!" That string of curses, that tone… that was exactly how my mother-in-law always talked. But the voice… how could it be…? 3. Another call came in. It was Jason. My head was throbbing from my mother-in-law's yelling, so I quickly hung up on her and answered Jason's call. "Hey, honey. Who were you on the phone with?" "Oh, just checking in on Mom. What's up?" He chuckled lightly on the other end. "You two are like oil and water. Calling her is just asking for an earful, isn't it? I was calling to ask what you want to eat. I'll pick something up." A wave of warmth spread through me. Jason still cared about me. That's why, despite years of his mom's disdain and insults, our relationship was still strong. "Anything's fine, really. I'm not picky. Get what you like. Stop worrying about me all the time." He spoke gently for a bit longer, making sure his mom hadn't given me too hard a time, then reluctantly hung up. So far, everything seemed… normal. But something still felt off. I slowly got up and headed to the bathroom to wash my face. The next second, cold sweat prickled all over my body. Jason was standing right behind me. I hadn't heard him come in. He was staring intently into my eyes through the mirror. 4. Startled, I spun around, backing up half a step until my back hit the sink. "Jason! When did you get back? You scared me half to death." His gaze shifted to my face. A smile touched his lips, but it felt unfamiliar, alien. His voice was low, chilling. "Why the sudden urge to call Mom?" "No—no reason. I just dreamt she was sick, so I thought I'd call and see how she was." He didn't speak, just kept his eyes locked on mine, scrutinizing every flicker of expression. The small, closed-in bathroom felt suffocating. I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to stay calm. I tilted my head up, trying to look casual. "What's wrong?" After a long moment, he finally stepped back out of the bathroom. "Nothing. Come on, I'm taking you out for lunch today." The knot of tension in my stomach tightened again. A huge question mark formed in my mind. Ever since I'd known him, we never ate out. I remember once, I was really craving sushi and begged Jason to take me. When his mom found out, she chewed him out, poking his forehead, yelling about him having no self-control, eating garbage from outside. After that, I never dared suggest eating out again. Jason called from the living room, urging me to hurry. I didn't have time to think. I grabbed the nearest clothes, threw them on, and went out. When we ordered, I told the waiter, "Light on the oil, no spicy peppers, please." Jason stopped me. "No, it's fine. Make it regular." His mom was vehemently against us eating anything spicy or heavy. She usually made steamed or boiled dishes, especially vegetables. It made me wonder if she was Buddhist. She used to boast to me that Jason grew up eating her cooking, which is why he was so healthy and smart, and that our future kids would have to follow her personally approved recipes too. I'd always shake my head and argue that we needed to consider the kids' tastes, not just force her ideas on them. That led to a huge fight, ending with us not speaking. Her favorite line was: "My son must have been blind to pick you!" 5. My eyes drifted to the dishes in front of Jason – Spicy Beef, Frog Legs with Pickled Chilies. The bright red peppers screamed flavor and heat. I was about to swap my plain stir-fried bok choy for his dish when he pressed my hand down. I watched as he picked up several pieces of beef coated in thick Sichuan peppercorns and chili oil, and ate them without batting an eye. "Jason, you..." "Got tired of bland food. Time for a change now and then." Watching him shovel down spicy food, remembering the nightmare version of him, a chill ran down my spine. Something about Jason felt... different. I shook my head slightly. "If Mom finds out about this," I whispered, "she'll say I'm corrupting you again." His chopsticks paused mid-air. Then he resumed eating, stuffing beef into his mouth. His face flushed slightly from the spice, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. I quickly handed him a glass of water. "When I called earlier, Mom's voice sounded weird. Since it's the weekend, maybe we should go visit her?" That strange woman's voice still echoed in my head. "Visit her? So we can fight again?" Jason took a sip of water and rubbed his temples. "I have things to do this afternoon. Maybe another day." "Okay..." I noticed a drop of chili oil on his shirt, bright red and shiny. I grabbed a napkin to wipe it. "Look at you, getting food all over your shirt." He was always so neat, never allowing a single speck of dirt on his clothes. I dabbed at it uselessly. "See? That's what happens when you eat spicy food, oil drips everywhere. I'll wash it for you when we get home," I said helplessly. He stared down at the stain, lost in thought. After lunch, he went off to run his errands, and I started walking home slowly by myself. As I reached the corner, the image of his mom having her oxygen mask removed flashed through my mind. My heart pounded. Thinking it over, I still felt uneasy. I decided to grab a cab and head over to his mom's place. 6. The cab stopped at the entrance to the alley. I paid and got out, planning to buy some fruit and milk at the corner store. Old Mrs. Henderson at the store saw me arrive alone and looked puzzled, peering behind me. "Coming to see your mother-in-law? Jason didn't come with you?" I picked through the bananas. "Oh, he had something to do. Are these fresh?" "Fresh as can be, just came in this morning." Mrs. Henderson sat back down and went back to cracking sunflower seeds. "You know, that Carol really lucked out. Husband died early, but she raised a good son. Nobody around here has a son as filial and obedient as hers." I managed a small smile, taking the bananas to be weighed, then picked out some apples. Mrs. Henderson put down her seeds to weigh the fruit. "They've been through a lot together, just the two of them, all these years. Their bond is really strong. Carol told me Jason used to call her for two hours every single day back in college. Sigh, not like my kids. Wild horses couldn't drag them home. A call every ten days or half a month is a miracle." "Well, Mrs. H, everyone's got their own treasures, right?" I smiled, paid, and picked up my bags. It wasn't just college. Jason and I had been married for three years, and he still kept up that habit of calling his mom every day, rain or shine, for exactly two hours. Mrs. Henderson followed me to the door. "Oh, Jason's wife, one more thing! Remind your mother-in-law about the line dancing meet-up this afternoon. She's so proud, sometimes she needs coaxing." I chuckled inwardly. Mrs. Henderson seriously overestimated my influence with my mother-in-law. "Sure, I'll try." Kids were playing noisily in the alley. One boy wasn't looking and ran right into me. His mom saw it and yelled, "Mikey! Watch where you're going! What if that had been Mrs. Evans? You think you could get away with running wild then?" I freed a hand to pat the boy's head. "It's okay, kids are just playing." My mother-in-law was eccentric and proud. Most neighbors avoided interacting with her, and she, in turn, looked down on everyone. There were very few people in the world she actually respected. According to her, me marrying Jason was the result of my ancestors burning incense for eighteen generations. Even though we met through an arranged setup, and she was the one who chose me. Even though my education, looks, and family background were better than Jason's, it didn't stop her from disliking me. Lifestyle, eating habits, even ways of thinking – nothing could clash with hers. If it did, she'd condemn you to hell and unleash a torrent of verbal abuse. I often counted my blessings that I was just the daughter-in-law. Growing up under her thumb must have been incredibly tough for Jason.
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