“I spent thirty years as a detective,” the woman added, her voice calm but commanding. “I know when someone is holding something back. I’m Martha.”
Standing there on the sidewalk, Megan found herself pouring her heart out to this stranger. She told her everything—the “poverty prank,” the accusations of cheating, the client at the café, her father’s stroke. She cried, ruining her mascara, but it felt like a weight was lifting.
Martha listened intently, nodding occasionally. When Megan finished, Martha’s eyes narrowed.
“You know, dear, you shouldn’t have given up so easily. I know my daughter-in-law. Eleanor is manipulative and obsessed with status. This whole setup sounds exactly like her. Give me a few days. I still have friends on the force, and I know how to get to the bottom of things.”
A week later, Martha invited the entire Miller family to a private room at a local steakhouse. She claimed she wanted to discuss the upcoming wedding to the new fiancée—a politician’s daughter Eleanor had picked out. The family arrived, Eleanor wearing a fake smile, David looking miserable.
Suddenly, the door opened, and Martha beckoned two people in: Megan and a nervous young man David had never seen before.
David froze, his glass halfway to his mouth. He had been walking through life like a zombie since the breakup. He had believed his mother’s story about Megan’s affair, and it had broken him. He agreed to the new marriage just to stop his mother’s nagging.
Now, seeing Megan standing there, looking dignified and strong, the world stopped. Martha nodded to the young man. “Go ahead, son. Speak up.”
The young man stammered but got the story out. He was a struggling actor. Six months ago, he needed rent money.
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