And before the very first video clip finished playing, my mother realized that the full truth was only just beginning to surface.
PART 3
On the bright screen, Paige appeared laughing hysterically while Gwen, pale and visibly trembling, struggled to carry a heavy tray. Then my mother’s clear voice echoed through the room.
“If she faints again, just leave her lying out in the yard,” my mother said coldheartedly on the recording. “She always puts on a dramatic show whenever guests come over.”
The heavy silence that followed inside the living room was far louder than any angry scream.
Paige tried to lunge forward to snatch the phone out of my hand, but one of the police officers quickly stepped in to block her. My mother looked frantically at the lawyer and then at the notary, desperately searching for some legal loophole to escape the situation.
“That recording does not prove that money was originally yours!” my mother shouted defensively. “You sent those funds because you were a good son, and once deposited, that money legally belonged to me!”
I calmly pulled out four full years of international bank transfer receipts, my official payroll slips, text conversations where she explicitly promised to manage my funds to build my house, and messages where she assured me that Gwen was receiving proper care.
Then I placed a small folded paper directly in front of her on the table. It was the original sales receipt from the local shop that had purchased my wife’s hair for one hundred and fifty dollars.
“While you were hoarding over seventy thousand dollars in private investment accounts, Gwen sold her own hair just to pay for a cancer biopsy,” I said with cold clarity. “Are you going to claim that her hair was a gift to you as well?”
“That bald woman shouldn’t even be seen when there are visitors!” my sister shouted from the living room, while my wife, on her knees, picked up a broken plate from the patio.
I had just returned to Springfield after four years working in a cold metalworking shop up in Yellowknife. Nobody knew I was coming back because the plant had temporarily suspended operations due to a minor fire, and I decided to use those weeks to surprise my family.
For four whole years, I endured grueling twelve-hour shifts, harsh winters of twenty degrees below zero, and constant reheated meals. Every month I transferred between two thousand and twenty-five hundred dollars directly to my mother Margaret’s bank account.
The money was intended to build a house, secure our future, and take good care of Gwen, my wife. In total, I had sent over one hundred thousand dollars back home.
When I finally arrived, I found a beautiful two-story house, a golden front gate, a brand-new SUV, and furniture that looked like it belonged in a high-end design magazine. I felt immensely proud of what my hard work had achieved until I walked toward the back and saw Gwen by the laundry area.
She was so thin that her clothes hung loosely on her frame as if they were covering a mere skeleton. She was wearing a thick wool hat, even though the weather outside was quite warm.
When she finally recognized me, she did not run over to hug me or smile. Instead, she huddled tightly against the wall and covered her head with both of her hands.
I gently stepped forward and took off her hat.
She had no hair left at all. Her bare scalp showed tiny red cuts, as if someone had carelessly ran an unsharpened razor across it.
My mother came walking out of the house wearing an expensive silk outfit, heavy gold bracelets, and a thick gold chain around her neck. Behind her appeared my sister Paige, holding a brand-new smartphone and a designer handbag, wearing so many rings that she could barely close her fingers.
“Do not make a big deal out of this, Gavin,” my mother said dismissively. “Gwen used some cheap hair chemicals and all her hair fell out, and besides that, she became completely obsessed with losing weight.”
“She is just crazy,” Paige added with a sneer. “She lives off your hard-earned money and still constantly craves attention from everyone.”
Then I noticed a piece of medical tape sticking out under Gwen’s sleeve, along with a yellowish bruise where an IV line had been inserted into her skin. I wanted to scream and demand immediate answers, but I suddenly realized that the house, the bank accounts, and nearly everything else were legally in their names.
If I confronted them directly without proof, they could easily hide all the money and place the entire blame on Gwen.
So I decided to tell a clever lie.
“I actually came back because my company is granting me compensation and company shares worth nearly four hundred thousand dollars,” I announced to them. “I just need to prove that I already have substantial properties and investments registered in my name here.”
The look in both of their eyes changed instantly. My mother eagerly grabbed my arm with a wide smile.
Paige immediately started rambling about buying a new custom truck, opening a luxury spa, and taking a lavish vacation to Miami.
Later that night, inside the damp and gloomy room they had assigned to Gwen, my wife finally began to speak. She quietly unbuttoned her blouse and showed me a fresh scar from a surgical biopsy.
“I have breast cancer, Gavin,” she whispered softly to me. “The doctors found the tumor five months ago.”
She explained how she had begged my mother for three hundred dollars to visit the doctor. My mother had refused, accusing her of fabricating illnesses to steal money from me, and strictly forbade her from telling me anything.
Paige was constantly monitoring her phone calls to ensure she stayed silent. Without any money, Gwen made the painful choice to cut off her long hair and sell it to a wig shop for one hundred and fifty dollars just to pay for her transportation and the biopsy.
While my mother and sister were showing off their luxury jewelry to the neighbors, my wife had sold her own hair just to find out if she was going to die.
I pulled her into a tight hug and asked her to hold on for just a few more days. Then I turned off the lamp, looked up at the ceiling where my mother and sister were sleeping peacefully, and made a firm decision.
They could not possibly imagine what was about to happen next.
