
Ryan gets suspicious when his dog races into the church and starts barking at his father’s coffin. Seeing the dog in an alert position, Ryan opens the casket, only to find his father’s body missing.
Ryan climbed out of the car and stood outside the church, knowing he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to his father. “We couldn’t even give Dad a proper funeral,” he thought. Suddenly, Bella’s sharp bark distracted him.
Ryan turned to his car, where Bella was more agitated than usual.
“Bella!” He gave her a hand signal to lie down, and she obeyed. He patted her head through the open car window. “Now, stay, Bella.”
Ryan then walked away, ignoring Bella’s whine, and entered the church. His father Arnold’s casket was already in place, closed, and the funeral director had discretely cordoned off the immediate area because Arnold had died of an infectious disease.
Ryan sat beside his mother. Arnold would be cremated, not buried, given the circumstances of his death.
Just as the mass ended and mourners rose to sing the final hymn, Bella’s bark echoed through the church. She jumped on the casket, knocking the flower arrangement to the floor, and began barking loudly.
When Bella sat in her alert position on the floor and stared at him, Ryan sensed something was off.
“Open the casket!” he demanded.
A gasp rang out in the gathering. Ryan didn’t care. He walked over to the casket and opened it, only to find it empty.
“Wh-Where’s my brother?” His uncle stared at the funeral director.
Ryan’s mother couldn’t stand what was happening. Her eyes rolled back in her skull, and her knees gave way. Ryan caught her just in time before her head hit the marble floor. He rushed her to the hospital.
At his mother’s house, Ryan called the police.
“At this point, all we know is that the coroner confirmed the cause of death and released the remains to the funeral home,” Detective Bradshaw told him. “Was your father involved in any activities I should be aware of?”
Ryan hadn’t been involved in his father’s business since he opened his dog training and rehabilitation center. But he knew Arnold would never put his or the company’s reputation at stake.
Since there was no vital lead yet, Detective Bradshaw left, promising to be in touch with updates. But Ryan didn’t want to wait. The hospital was keeping his mom overnight. He left Bella at home and went to the morgue to find answers.
“The coroner resigned? What about the new coroner?” Ryan was baffled when the nurse at the reception informed him there was no new coroner yet. He asked to see his father’s file, but the nurse refused, saying it was against policies.
Ryan knew how to convince her. He set $1000 on the counter, and she turned a blind eye when he slipped inside the coroner’s office. He started searching the shelves for his father’s file, but it was futile. Arnold’s file was missing.
Ryan was frustrated. Suddenly, his buzzing phone distracted him. It was his father’s lawyer, Mr. Stevens. The older man informed Ryan that he was the new CEO of Arnold’s company and wanted to see him urgently.
As Ryan arrived at his father’s office, he opened Arnold’s Gmail on the office computer, only to find the inbox empty. Someone had deleted the messages.
“Ryan! Good to see you,” Mr. Stevens entered the room and shut the door behind him.
“Who’s been using this computer?” Ryan asked him.
“Nobody,” Mr. Stevens replied.
“Wait, where are the dancers?” Ryan noticed two figurines were missing from his father’s office.
“Oh, he took them home. Poor Arnold…he could never get the third figurine in the set. Can you believe the man who owns it won’t accept anything less than half a million?” Mr. Stevens said.
Ryan was sure Arnold hadn’t taken them home. He’d been all through his parents’ house since he arrived for the funeral, and he hadn’t seen those dancers anywhere.
“But anyway, we have more important matters to discuss…” Mr. Stevens informed Ryan that they were in severe debt, and several investors were threatening to pull their investments because Arnold had been missing meetings with them for months before his death.
“…and it all started when his new secretary began working here. With all due respect to Arnold and his family, I believe he was having a romantic relationship with her,” Mr. Stevens revealed.
Ryan lost his cool as the thought of his mother’s sad face crossed his mind. He would’ve confronted his father’s secretary if Mr. Stevens hadn’t stopped him—It would only tarnish Arnold’s reputation.
Ryan spent the day sorting out the debt problem and sent gift baskets to the most vital investors. After work, he followed his father’s secretary, Miss Pearson, and saw her pull into the garage of a modest suburban home. She was his only lead until now, so he waited outside her house in his car.
Sometime later, the whirring noise of her garage door awoke him. He saw her head in the direction of the city in her car and wanted to follow her. But then he had a better idea. He leaped from his car and managed to get inside her garage just in time before the door closed. There, he found a doorway leading into her house.
He found the kitchen first, searched the drawers, and found a flashlight. He didn’t want to turn on the lights in case Miss Pearson came home suddenly. His heart sank when he entered her bedroom and saw a framed photo of her kissing Arnold on the nightstand.
Ryan maintained his composure, reminding himself he was here to find a lead that would help him figure out what happened to his father. He searched Miss Pearson’s house but couldn’t find anything. Dejected, he was about to leave when he noticed a slightly open drawer in the coffee table.
A Manila envelope there interested him. Inside it was Arnold’s life insurance policy for $7 million, and the sole beneficiary was…Miss Pearson! Ryan took the document and drove to the police station.
“This is quite compelling…” Detective Bradshaw said, looking at the document. “Let me see what else I can find out about this Pearson woman.”
Ryan was seated near the front desk when she approached him with a team of officers. Turned out Miss Pearson was booked on a flight to Morocco, which would leave in half an hour.
“Since the US has no extradition treaty with the Moroccan government, it’s vital we bring her in for questioning before she boards the plane!”
Ryan wanted to accompany the officers, but Detective Bradshaw refused because he was a civilian. Ryan didn’t listen to her and followed her.
“Police!” Detective Bradshaw yelled as she and her team approached a boarding gate. “Let us through!”
Ryan slipped past the airport security officers by blending with the group, and they proceeded to the boarding area. The cops immediately spread out and started checking the passengers.
“You there! The dark-haired woman in the white shirt! Step out of the line and raise your hands in the air,” Detective Bradshaw yelled.
Ryan was relieved they’d caught Miss Pearson, but his smile faded when the woman turned around. She was not Miss Pearson. The cops continued the search for hours, but Miss Pearson was gone.
Ryan was back to square one. But somewhere in his heart, he knew Arnold was alive. Ryan knew the figurines weren’t at his mother’s house. Wherever his father was, he must’ve taken the figurines with him. Ryan looked up the collector who had the third figurine online and visited him.
“So…how much will you take for it?” he asked, pointing to the figurine.
“$750,000,” the collector, Mr. Frederick, replied.
“That’s far above the market value for the artist’s work, sir.”
“Then don’t buy it. The price is non-negotiable, young man!”
Ryan had to have it, so he requested time to arrange the money. He returned to his car, dialed Mr. Stevens, and said he wanted to sell $750,000 worth of his shares in the company.
“But then you won’t have a controlling stake in the company, Ryan!” Mr. Stevens said.
“I’m aware, Mr. Stevens, but this is urgent,” Ryan explained. “I need the cash immediately, but if I’m right, I should be able to buy back those shares within the week.”
“Ryan,” Mr. Stevens eventually replied in a measured tone, “as a major stakeholder and legal advisor for the company, I get the feeling it would behoove me not to ask questions about why you need such a large amount of money at such short notice.”
“As a longtime family friend, however,” Mr. Stevens continued, “I must know if this is related to the suspicion I shared with you about Miss Pearson.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Ryan replied.
Mr. Stevens sighed. “She’s also disappeared, you know…didn’t turn up for work today, and her phone number no longer exists. I’ll get you the money…best you not ask me the details…and wire it to you ASAP.”
When Ryan received the message that the money was in his account, he rushed inside to speak to Mr. Frederick. The older man muttered something about how the figurine was worth more than his asking price since it was the only available piece of the set, but Ryan cut him off.
“You asked for $750 000, sir, and that’s what I’m giving you, effective immediately. Are you not a man of your word, Mr. Frederick?”
Mr. Frederick finally agreed to sell the figurine. Ryan was now ready for the next step. He called a few people from his car and made a quick stop before returning to his mother’s house.
“Where on earth have you been, Ryan?” his mother asked. “I return from the hospital to find the house empty, and poor Bella bored out of her mind. Your dog misses you; I really can’t keep her busy enough, and I’ve barely seen you since the funeral…”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he muttered. “Please just trust that what I’ve been doing is very important. It will also be over very soon.”
Ryan stood behind a pillar near the back of the auction house’s main bidding area and studied the crowd. The figurine he’d bought was the next lot up for bid. He glanced toward the podium as it was brought to the front.
As the price climbed, the number of participants whittled down to just two. One was an overweight man with a prominent nose, and the other was a tall, white-haired man in a navy suit. Neither of them was his father.
Ryan had insisted on anonymity and personally paid for several adverts to ensure his father, wherever he might be, would know that the figurine was on auction today.
“$600,000 going once,” the auctioneer declared.
Ryan’s heart sank. He feared that not only would he lose his bait and miss the chance to find his father, but he would also make a huge loss on the figurine.
“…going twice…”
“$1 million!”
Ryan got goosebumps at the sound of his father’s voice. He stared in shock as Arnold rose from a seat near the back of the auction room and removed his wide-brimmed hat.
“$1 million going once…going twice…sold to the man in the beige coat!” The auctioneer banged his gavel.
Immediately, Arnold put his hat back on and headed for the door. Ryan rushed around the edge of the room and blocked his path. Then Detective Bradshaw stepped forward and handcuffed Arnold.
“Ryan?” Arnold frowned at Ryan. “You tricked me! This was a trap!”
“Don’t act like I’ve committed some terrible betrayal, Dad! You’re the one who had an affair and faked your own death so you could run off with your mistress! How could you?”
Arnold hung his head as he confessed that he was tired of his old life and wanted to start a new one with his new love, Miss Pearson.
“So you took out a huge amount in life insurance for your new life, bribed the coroner to falsify your death certificate and cause of death, and had all of us gather around an empty casket to mourn you!” Ryan hissed.
“‘A man should do what is right, not follow his own selfish interests.’ You taught me that, Dad. I’m sorry you couldn’t follow your own principles, but I hope you realize that your failure to do so led to your downfall.”
Detective Bradshaw assured Ryan that Miss Pearson would be caught soon, too. Then Arnold was taken away to the police car.
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My Husband Moved Back in with His Mom Because My Cough ‘Was Annoying’ While I Was Sick with Our Baby – So I Taught Him a Lesson

When I got sick, I finally saw a side to my husband that I didn’t like. He abandoned me and our newborn baby because he didn’t want to step up and be a good father and husband, so I played along. But I came out on top!
I’m 30, married to a man named Drew who’s 33, and we have a six-month-old baby girl named Sadie. She’s the light of my life—a smile like sunshine, chubby cheeks, and the sweetest little giggle. But apparently, all of that was just a minor inconvenience to my husband when I got sick.

A sickly woman | Source: Midjourney
Let me tell you what happened. Strap in, because it still feels like a fever dream, and not just because I had a fever when it all started. This all occurred about a month ago. I’d caught some brutal virus. Not COVID-19, not RSV, but something gnarly.
I mean, this thing came with body aches, chills, and a cough that made my ribs feel like they were being punched from the inside! The worst part? Sadie had just gotten over a cold herself, so I was already drained.

A cute baby | Source: Midjourney
At this point, I was sleep-deprived, sick, and trying to take care of a baby who was still clingy from her own recovery. Strangely, Drew had been acting weird for weeks, even before I got sick. He was distant.
Always on his phone, chuckling at things he wouldn’t share. When I’d ask what was so funny, he’d just shrug and say, “It’s work stuff.” His fuse was short, too. He snapped over stupid things—the dishes in the sink and my forgetting to defrost the chicken.

An upset man | Source: Midjourney
My husband also kept commenting on how tired I looked. “You always seem exhausted,” he said one night while I rocked Sadie in my arms and tried to suppress a cough.
“Well, yeah, duh. I’m raising a human,” I replied with a tinge of annoyance.
I thought maybe, just maybe, this illness would snap him out of it. I hoped he’d see me struggling and finally step up. Pick up the slack. Be the man I married.
Boy, was I wrong!

A sickly woman struggling with a baby | Source: Midjourney
The night my fever hit 102.4, I could barely sit up! My hair was stuck to my forehead, my skin burned, and my whole body ached like I’d been hit by a truck! I looked at him and, with all the strength I could muster, I whispered, “Can you please take Sadie? I just need to lie down for 20 minutes.”
He didn’t even blink. “I can’t. Your cough is keeping me up. I NEED SLEEP. I think I’m gonna stay at my mom’s for a few nights.”
I actually laughed—not because it was funny, but because it was so absurd I thought he had to be joking!
He wasn’t.

A sickly woman laughing while holding her baby | Source: Midjourney
He actually got up, packed a duffel bag, kissed Sadie on the head—not me—and walked out. All the while, I kept asking him, “Are you serious right now? You’re really leaving?” And he just nodded his head and said nothing.
He didn’t even bother asking how Sadie would be taken care of while I could barely stand! After he left, I sat on the couch holding her while she cried from being overtired and hungry. I stared at the door. My phone buzzed a few minutes later after I texted him.

A woman holding a baby and texting | Source: Midjourney
“You’re seriously leaving me here sick and alone with the baby?” I had texted, still in disbelief.
“You’re the mom. You know how to handle this stuff better than me. I’d just get in the way. Plus, I’m exhausted and your cough is unbearable.”
I read that text five times and stared at it in shock! My hands were shaking, whether from the fever or the rage, I’ll never know! I couldn’t believe that this man, who was supposed to be my life partner, thought my cough was too much of a hindrance than staying and helping with OUR child while I was clearly sick!?
FINE!

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
I somehow made it through the weekend. I barely ate. I cried in the shower when Sadie finally napped. I kept her alive on nothing but Tylenol, willpower, and instinct. And during that time, Drew didn’t check in, not once!
I couldn’t rely on family because they were hours away, and although my friends popped in and called now and then, they were too busy, out of town, or had some other reason. The whole time I was burning up in bed, one idea kept playing in my mind: I need to show this man what it feels like to be completely abandoned.
So I did.

A serious and determined woman | Source: Midjourney
I started devising my plan. I figured if he thought being sick and then abandoned wasn’t a big deal, I was going to give him an idea of what it felt like. By the time I felt somewhat human again, with no fever, still coughing but functional, I knew exactly what I was going to do.
So a week later, I texted him.
“Hey babe. I’m feeling much better now. You can come home.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Thank God! I’ve barely slept here. Mom’s dog snores and she keeps asking me to help with yard work.”
Yard work. Poor baby. Imagine that.

A happy man texting | Source: Midjourney
Ahead of his return, I cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom, prepped Sadie’s bottles and food, and even made Drew’s favorite dinner, spaghetti carbonara with garlic bread from scratch. I showered, put on makeup for the first time in two weeks, and wore jeans that didn’t scream “I’ve been up every two hours with a baby.”
When he walked in, he looked around like everything was back to normal. He was smiling, looking relaxed, ate like a king, burped, and then collapsed onto the couch with his phone! He barely said a word to me about the week I had endured!

A happy man using his phone | Source: Midjourney
A few minutes into his relaxation time, I finally struck!
“Hey,” I said sweetly, “Can you hold Sadie for a sec? I need to grab something upstairs.”
“Sure,” he muttered after sighing and rolling his eyes. He kept scrolling TikTok with one hand and held her with the other.
I came down five minutes later with my small suitcase and my car keys. Sadie was smiling and babbling in his lap.
Noticing the movement, he blinked. “What’s that?”
“I booked a weekend spa retreat,” I said, calm as can be. “Massage, facial, room service. I just need some rest.”
He sat up, confused. “Wait, you’re going now?!”

A shocked man holding a baby | Source: Midjourney
“Yep. Just two nights. I left instructions. Bottles are labeled and her toys are there. Diapers and wipes are stocked. Emergency numbers are on the fridge. I got lots of groceries. Everything’s good. Unlike you, I actually planned ahead for you. Besides, you’re the dad. You know how to handle this stuff.”
“Claire, I don’t know what to—” he started.
I raised a hand. “No, no. Your words last week, remember? ‘You’re the mom. You know how to handle this stuff better than me.’ Now it’s your turn.”

A woman leaving with luggage | Source: Midjourney
He seemed gobsmacked for a few seconds before he said, “Wait—Claire, c’mon. You can’t just—”
“I can. I am. You abandoned me when I needed you most. So now you’ll see what it’s like to carry everything alone. Don’t call unless it’s a real emergency. And no pawning her off on your mom. You’re the dad. Figure it out.”
He just stared at me with his eyes wide. I don’t think he was processing what was happening.

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“You wanted sleep? Good luck getting any. Bye-bye, dear. I’ll be back Sunday night!”
And then I walked out. I didn’t slam the door. I didn’t cry in the car. I drove 45 minutes to a beautiful, tranquil, and quiet little inn with a spa and free chocolate chip cookies in the lobby.
That day, I vowed not to answer any calls or texts. I figured if there was a real issue, Drew could get in touch with his mother or take Sadie to the hospital. I even ignored the first wave of panicked voicemails and FaceTime attempts.

A woman relaxing at a spa | Source: Midjourney
Instead, I had a 90-minute massage, took naps, read by the fireplace, got a pedicure, and watched trashy reality shows in a fluffy robe. Bliss!
Saturday? Slept in until 9 a.m., got a facial, and ate a warm croissant while reading a book by the fire.
He did call twice. Left two voicemails. One was mild panic. The other was an attempt to guilt-trip me.
“Claire, Sadie won’t nap. I don’t know how you do this. She spit up on me twice. Please call back.”
I didn’t.

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney
But I did FaceTime that evening because, despite everything, I missed my daughter, and unlike him, I still really loved him.
When the screen lit up, Drew looked like he’d aged 10 years. Sadie was in his arms, hair a mess, chewing on his hoodie string. Her diaper looked… full.
“Hey, Sadie-bug,” I said, my voice softening. “Mommy misses you.”
She smiled. Reached for the screen. Drew looked like he wanted to melt.
“Claire,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t realize how hard this is!”
No kidding!
I nodded. “I know.”

A woman on her phone | Source: Midjourney
Sunday evening, I came home to a war zone! Toys everywhere. Dirty bottles in the sink. Drew was still in the same shirt from the day before, his eyes sunken, hair sticking up like a cartoon scientist!
Sadie squealed and giggled when she saw me! I scooped her up and kissed her all over! She smelled like baby wipes and panic, but was fine, maybe a little clingy.

A happy woman carrying her child | Source: Midjourney
Drew just looked at me like he was seeing a goddess with infinite powers—exhausted and ashamed.
“I get it now,” he whispered. “I really do.”
“Do you?” I asked.
He nodded. “I messed up.”
I pulled out a folded paper from my purse and placed it on the table. Don’t get excited, it wasn’t divorce papers, at least, not yet. He looked down like a deer caught in headlights, probably thinking the papers were the end of our marriage.

A shocked man looking at a list | Source: Midjourney
But it was a list. A schedule. Morning duties, nighttime feedings, grocery runs, laundry, baths. His name was next to half of them.
“You don’t get to tap out anymore,” I told him. “I need a partner. Not a third child.”
He nodded, slowly. “Okay. I’m in.”
To his credit, he has been trying. He wakes up when Sadie cries at night. He makes her bottles and finally managed to change her diaper without gagging! He even learned to swaddle her without watching a tutorial!

A happy man holding his swaddled child | Source: Midjourney
But I’m not stupid. I’m not rushing to forgive him. I’m still watching. Still deciding.
But at least now, he knows: love doesn’t mean allowing someone to walk all over you, and I’m not the type of woman you leave behind when things get tough.
I’m the woman who makes sure you never, ever forget it.

A determined woman | Source: Midjourney
In the following story, a woman was thrilled when her boyfriend proposed but, his mother quickly shut down any idea of them actually getting married. To cut a long story short, the jilted woman didn’t take the slight lying down and got revenge in the best way possible!
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