I didn’t think much when my daughter-in-law, Kate, began sneaking into the forest, claiming to forage for mushrooms but returning empty-handed. Over time, her disappearances grew more frequent. My gut, honed by decades in the corporate world, sensed something was off.

Kate had married our son Leonard after a whirlwind romance, and despite our reservations, we gave our blessing. At first, she seemed perfect, but cracks began to show—small outbursts, secretive behavior, and late-night trips.

One evening, I followed her. She entered an abandoned cabin, and to my shock, I watched her transform—wig, mustache, tailored suit. Kate had a double life. I followed her to a café, where she met an elderly man. Their comfortable interaction and his kiss on her hand confirmed my suspicions.

That night, we confronted her. Kate admitted the man thought she was someone named Karl and promised her property in his will. She insisted it was for their future, to help with their financial struggles. Leonard, heartbroken, couldn’t accept the betrayal and asked for a divorce.

As Kate sobbed, I sat in disbelief. I had uncovered the truth, but at what cost? Leonard’s marriage was crumbling, and I wondered if I’d done the right thing. Should I have let this mystery remain, or was it better to reveal the painful truth?