I was standing in line at the store, ready to check out with a few shirts and some moisturizer, when someone tapped my arm. I turned around and saw Yvette—my brother-in-law’s wife. Her eyes looked tired, like she’d been crying, but she gave me a quick smile.
“I’ve got this,” she said, pulling out a few hundred-dollar bills from her purse.I told her it wasn’t necessary—I had it covered—but she insisted. She pressed the cash into my hand and leaned in close.
“Just… don’t mention this to Julian,” she whispered. “I’ll explain later.”Julian is my brother-in-law. Yvette’s husband. Her request felt strange, but with the cashier watching, I didn’t want to make a scene.
Outside, I tried to ask her what was going on. Before I could finish a sentence, she handed me a shopping bag and said, “If anyone asks, you bought that.” Then she walked away.
I stood there, confused, holding a bag and $400 in cash. Something didn’t feel right. Yvette had always been a little dramatic, but this was different—she seemed truly overwhelmed.That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I knew something was off, and Julian deserved to know. The next day, I gave him a call and casually asked how things were going. He sounded distracted and exhausted. When I brought up Yvette, he just said she had been “acting a little off” lately.
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