The document claimed my mother-in-law had bent down to tie her shoelaces on purpose—framing it as an attempted scam. It even went on to say that because Dylan was feeling unwell, he failed to notice the road and accidentally hit her.
It was a blatant reversal of right and wrong.
Clutching the flimsy paper, I asked hoarsely, "Abigail... did you even watch the surveillance footage at the police station?"
She leaned back in her chair, sipping her drink carelessly, though her voice rose with irritation.
"Watch what? You want me to watch your mom scam someone? An old woman like her trying to extort a young boy? Julian, if you're not ashamed, I am!"
"She wasn't scamming anyone!" I slammed the document back at her. "She raised you for thirty years. You know better than anyone what kind of person she was. Don't you dare insult her like this!"
People at nearby tables began glancing over, curious about the argument.
Maybe her coldness had numbed me, because even my grief seemed to fade under her words.
"Raised me?" she sneered. "She was your mom, Julian. Are you confused?"
I thought I had been clear, but it was like she didn't hear a word I said. She snapped at me again, then suddenly softened her tone, as if remembering something.
"Julian, I know it's hard to accept your mother's death right now. That's understandable. But think rationally. She was old, contributed nothing to the family, and needed us to support her. She's been a burden for years. If she were still alive, do you really think she could earn even five thousand, let alone fifty?"
"We have to be realistic," Abigail said coldly. "If you think fifty thousand is too little, then name your price."
At that instant, something in me snapped—I finally understood.
I lifted my head, my voice edged with bitter irony.
"So, once someone grows old and stops earning money, they're a burden? That makes it acceptable for people to slander them, to put a price tag on their life and buy it off with fifty thousand?"
I looked straight into her eyes.
"Abigail, is that what you really think of your own mother?"
"Shut up."
Like a firecracker set alight, she leapt to her feet and flung the drink in my face.
"Julian, how can you be so ungrateful?" she snapped. "I'm doing this for your sake, yet you twist it into an insult against my mom. What kind of son-in-law are you?"