I give my mother $25,000 a month to take care of my wife after she gives birth. But when I came home unexpectedly early, I found her secretly eating a bowl of spoiled rice mixed with fish heads and bones. What happened next was even more terrifying…

Lily looked up, fear in her eyes.

“Because… she’s your mother.”

Those words hit harder than anything.

She wasn’t afraid of hunger.

She was afraid of hurting me.

I stood up.

“Where is she?”

“She’s probably at Mrs. Carter’s house,” Lily said quietly.

I grabbed my jacket. “Stay here.”

“What are you going to do?”

I looked at her. “Fix this.”

Mrs. Carter’s house was two doors down.

I could hear laughter from the yard. A group of women sat drinking coffee.

My mother was among them.

Laughing.

Like nothing was wrong.

When she saw me, her smile froze. “Son? Why are you home early?”

“Come,” I said. “We need to talk.”

My tone silenced everyone.

We walked back in silence.

In the kitchen, Lily stood up immediately, lowering her gaze.

My mother noticed the bowl.

For a split second, her expression changed—but then she smiled.

“Oh, that? That was for the cats.”

My anger rose.

“Then why was my wife eating it?”