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35
Undergraduate @ Redeemers university
My Mother-in-Law Only Visits at Night and Always Leaves Something Behind
<p>Episode 1</p><p><br/></p><p>I didn’t think much of my mother-in-law’s visits at first until I started noticing what she always left behind.</p><p><br/></p><p>She would sit with my wife, talk quietly, laugh a little then leave late.</p><p><br/></p><p>And after she left, there was always a pin on our table.</p><p><br/></p><p>It was small. Old. Slightly rusted. Lying at the center of the table, as if it had always been there.</p><p><br/></p><p>I stared at it for a moment, then assumed my wife must have dropped it earlier and forgotten about it. I picked it up and threw it away.</p><p><br/></p><p>A few days later, my mother-in-law visited again.</p><p><br/></p><p>Same routine.</p><p>Same calm conversation.</p><p>Same short stay.</p><p><br/></p><p>The next morning, while cleaning the house with my wife, I froze.</p><p><br/></p><p>There it was again.</p><p>The same pin.</p><p><br/></p><p>This time, it wasn’t lying in the open. It had been placed neatly under the center of the tablecloth, hidden, but deliberate.</p><p><br/></p><p>I picked it up slowly and showed my wife.</p><p><br/></p><p>“Did you keep this here?” I asked.</p><p><br/></p><p>She frowned. “No. Nobody uses pins in this house.”</p><p><br/></p><p>I stood there, trying to remember if I had really thrown it away the first time.</p><p><br/></p><p>I was sure I did.</p><p><br/></p><p>Still, I said nothing. I threw it away again.</p><p><br/></p><p>One morning, I tried to speak carefully, not wanting to offend my wife.</p><p><br/></p><p>“Your mother visits often,” I said lightly. “She seems to care about you a lot.”</p><p><br/></p><p>My wife smiled.</p><p>“I’m surprised myself. We weren’t even that close before.”</p><p><br/></p><p>“Really?” I asked.</p><p><br/></p><p>“Yes,” she said. “When my biological mum was alive, things were never easy between them after my dad married her.”</p><p><br/></p><p>I sighed.</p><p>“Maybe she cares more now,” I said quietly.</p><p><br/></p><p>My wife nodded.</p><p><br/></p><p>Then I added, gently, “Don’t you think her visits are becoming too frequent?”</p><p><br/></p><p>Her face changed instantly.</p><p>“No,” she said firmly. “Please don’t say that. Sometimes it feels nice having someone older around.”</p><p><br/></p><p>I didn’t say anything again.</p><p><br/></p><p>A week later, she visited once more.</p><p><br/></p><p>That evening, I was working at the table, arranging files, spreading papers across the surface.</p><p><br/></p><p>Time passed. She didn’t leave as usual. It got late. Eventually, she decided to sleep over.</p><p><br/></p><p>Just before daybreak, I heard the door open.</p><p>I got up to check.</p><p>She was gone.</p><p><br/></p><p>To be continued…</p>
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