Part 3: The Broken Defense
Kathryn frantically tried to wipe her hands on a handful of tissues from the nightstand, but the security dye was designed not to wash off for days.
“I… I was looking for a lint roller!” she sputtered, her cheeks burning red. “I thought you might keep one in the dresser!”
“In my personal underwear drawer?” I raised an eyebrow. “Underneath my lace bralettes? That’s where you look for lint rollers in someone else’s house?”
“Austin!” Kathryn turned to her son, her voice shrinking into a pitiful whine. “She set a trap for me! She deliberately tried to humiliate your mother!”
Austin stared at the purple stain spreading across his mother’s clothes. For months, he had hidden behind the excuse that she was “just checking on the house” or “trying to help.” But seeing the physical evidence—bright purple proof that his mother had bypassed every sensible boundary to dig through his wife’s most intimate belongings—made every excuse melt away.
“Mom,” Austin said, his voice unusually quiet. “You told me you only looked at the bookshelves and the kitchen counters. You told me you never went into our bedroom.”
“I was just ensuring she was keeping things clean!” Kathryn snapped, dropping the fake innocence as panic set in. “A proper wife doesn’t hide things in her drawers!”
I pulled a small black folder out from under the mattress and tossed it onto the bed right next to Austin.
“Those are property division forms and the business card for a top family law attorney,” I told him, looking him straight in the eye. “You told me she had every right to check if I was taking proper care of our home. So now you have a choice to make.”
To see Austin’s final decision and how Kathryn got her punishment, continue reading below for Part 4.
