Kathryn stood clutching her right hand, her face flushed red with a mixture of shock, anger, and utter embarrassment. Tucked neatly inside my open underwear drawer was a spring-loaded dye pack—the kind used by bank security systems—which had detonated the exact moment she slid the wooden drawer open. Bright, indelible purple ink was splattered across her palm, her fingers, and the sleeve of her expensive white cream cardigan, while a high-decibel personal panic alarm blared loudly from the back of the dresser.
Austin stood frozen in the doorway, his mouth agape as he looked back and forth between his screaming mother, the purple ink dripping onto her designer sweater, and the open drawer.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Kathryn shrieked, frantically trying to wipe the purple dye onto her pants, only for it to stain her clothes even worse. “She tried to hurt me! Austin, look at what your wife did to me!”
I stepped past Austin, reached into the drawer, and switched off the blaring alarm with a serene, unbothered smile.
“I didn’t do anything to you, Kathryn,” I said, my voice completely level. “That dye pack was placed inside my personal drawer, beneath my private undergarments. The only way it could possibly explode on your hands is if you opened my closed drawer and started digging through my things.”
Austin turned to his mother, his defense of her completely collapsing as the cold, undeniable evidence of her intrusion painted her skin bright purple. “Mom… why were you going through her underwear drawer?”
To see Kathryn’s unbelievable excuse and the final ultimatum, continue reading below for Part 3.
