She Stopped Faking Crazy After I Died,So I Came Back for Revenge

She wasn't crazy anymore. Wasn't acting confused. She was talking on the phone like a perfectly normal person, carrying on a conversation with whoever was on the other end.

"That little wretch suddenly changed on me. You think I should keep up the act or not?"

Greta Murray's voice came through from the other side of the line.

"Mom, you've got to be tougher. You're going soft again. That woman has my brother wrapped around her finger. Don't you dare let her have an easy life."

"Once she works herself to death, he'll fall right back in line."

Dolores let out a sly, scheming laugh. "You're right. Your brother has listened to me since he was a boy. The only time he ever defied me was when he insisted on marrying that worthless woman. I'm going to make them suffer until they regret the day they said 'I do.'"

I stood quietly off to the side, listening.

Greta had known all along that Dolores had been faking her insanity for years. Behind my back and Nathan's, the two of them had been plotting how to torment us. Mother and daughter, cut from the same rotten cloth.

In my previous life, Greta's husband's family had racked up massive debts from a failed business. She came to our house begging Nathan and me for money. Nathan refused. That money was for my medical treatment. It was the only thing keeping me alive.

But Greta threw a fit, sobbing and screaming.

"Nathan! How long are you going to stay blind for that woman? Mom went insane because of her! She told you before the wedding that if you let that woman through the door, she'd never be okay again."

"Look! Mom's been out of her mind for almost thirty years and she's never gotten better! Now your own sister needs that money, and you're choosing that woman over your own flesh and blood?"

Nathan's hands were shaking. His voice trembled so badly he could barely get the words out.

"That money is for your sister-in-law. She really needs it..."

Greta bolted toward Dolores and screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Mom! He won't lend me the money! If you can understand what I'm saying, give us some kind of sign!"

The next second, Dolores's eyes went wide. Her whole body seized up, convulsing violently before she collapsed to the floor.

Nathan and I were both stunned, convinced she had actually understood and the shock had caused her to faint.

Greta wiped snot and tears across her face. "Nathan, you saw that. If you don't lend me this money..."

"Mom will never recover! You'll be the one who kills her!"

Nathan's eyes were bloodshot. His fingers clenched the hem of his shirt so hard his knuckles turned white.

I didn't want him torn apart like that. I reached over and took his hand.

"Nathan, just give it to her."

"My condition... the doctor already said that even with the surgery, there's no guarantee I'll get better."

Nathan pressed his lips together until they went pale. Then he pulled out the money.

Greta snatched it from him with a grin, taking the bundle he'd wrapped in layer after layer of plastic bags.

Nathan and I rushed Dolores to the hospital. After a full examination, the doctors found nothing wrong with her.

It had all been an act. Greta and Dolores had rehearsed the whole thing, and the only purpose was to get that money into Greta's hands.

A few days later, Greta's husband threw her out. She showed up at our doorstep and joined forces with Dolores to make my life a living hell.

The moment she walked through the door, she came at me swinging.

"You know, Linda, you're eating my brother's food and spending my brother's money. Don't you have any shame?"

Dolores chimed in from the side, using her madwoman act as cover. "Shameless! Trash! Worthless dog!"

I ignored them both. As long as I didn't start anything, I could endure it. I had no energy to waste on the two of them.

But Greta wanted to impress her in-laws.

She slaughtered every chicken and duck we had. Then she called people over to butcher the pig I'd spent months raising, and she divided the meat among her husband's family.

That wasn't enough. When I came home that evening, exhausted and aching from a full day in the fields, I found the pantry stripped bare. Every last bit of rice, oil, salt, firewood—gone.

Greta stood there with a smug look on her face, preening.

"See, I'm not like you, hoarding everything and refusing to share."

"You're so stingy it's no wonder Mom lost her mind the second you married into this family!"