Greta thought a week at her husband Liam’s parents’ house would be a bonding experience. Eleven months into marriage, she was ready to embrace family traditions. But from the moment they arrived, Betty—Liam’s mother—made it clear Greta was an outsider. Every meal was a performance, every compliment laced with condescension. Liam, oblivious to the tension, basked in nostalgic attention while Greta endured subtle emotional warfare.
Then came the photo albums. Betty lingered on pictures of Liam with Alice, his high school friend. “Still single,” she noted, her tone dripping with implication. Greta felt the chill of being compared to a ghost of Betty’s ideal daughter-in-law.
One sleepless night, Greta wandered into the kitchen at 2 a.m. and overheard Betty whispering on the phone: “Don’t worry… she won’t be around for long. I’ll handle it personally.” Frozen in fear, Greta watched as Betty performed a ritual—burning Greta’s wedding photos, chanting in an unknown language, surrounded by flickering candles and a bowl of ashes.
When Greta confronted Liam, he dismissed it as stress. But the next day, she found the truth. Hidden in Betty’s wardrobe were dolls pierced with pins, scorched photos of Greta, and a notebook filled with cryptic symbols. One doll bore Greta’s wedding photo taped to its head.
Greta documented everything. That evening, she exposed Betty in front of Liam. The mask shattered. Betty admitted she’d wanted Liam to marry Alice and had been sabotaging Greta from the start. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” she hissed.
Greta’s revenge was swift and surgical. She uploaded the evidence to a private Facebook group of Betty’s church friends. By nightfall, Betty’s phone rang nonstop. Her pristine image crumbled under the weight of truth.
As Liam and Greta packed to leave, he finally saw his mother for who she was. “Thank you for fighting for us,” he said. Greta replied, “Some battles are worth fighting. Especially when the alternative is letting someone else write your story.”
