My Husband the Firefighter Let My Paralyzed Father-in-Law Burn

With a cold smile, I replied,

“The victim’s son has already agreed to call this an accident.”

Then I played the video right on the spot.

The reporters were stunned.

Before they could ask further, Michael yanked me into his office.

“The department wants to promote fire safety. We’ll use your dad’s remains for display.”

“No!”

My refusal was immediate.

Robert had treated me well while he was alive; I wanted to preserve what dignity I could for him in death.

Sophie eagerly chimed in,

“Sister-in-law, you don’t want more people to die in fires, do you?”

“One man’s death can warn thousands. Uncle Robert’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain. Right, Captain?”

Michael clapped with a smile, not a hint of guilt on his face.

When I stayed silent, he pressed on, speaking earnestly:

“The man is gone. Burned down, he’s just ashes.”

“No different from a stray cat or dog. Don’t be so stubborn.”

I couldn’t believe it.

How could someone who so desecrated the dead have become a captain?

Swallowing my anger, I tried reasoning with him:

“That was your father! How can you be so heartless?”

“In any case, I don’t agree.”

His face darkened instantly. Without a word, he grabbed my hand, pressed it into the red ink, and forced my fingerprint onto the document. His grip was so strong it nearly crushed my wrist.

“You’ll drink the penalty wine if you won’t drink the toast!”

Grinding my teeth, I shouted angrily, “Michael, if you treat me this way, you’ll regret it!”

The next second, a stack of files slammed into my face.

The sharp corner left a long cut across my cheek.

“Emily Summers, you only ever oppressed me by clinging to your father’s influence,” he spat.

“Now that he’s gone, what exactly would I regret?”

He shoved me hard. My waist hit the desk edge, pain shooting through me as I fell.

The man before me felt like a stranger.

Gone was the husband who used to fuss over me at the slightest frown.

I caught the flicker of satisfaction in Sophie’s eyes.

She quickly tugged at his sleeve, comforting him: “Captain, don’t waste your anger on your sister-in-law. Don’t dirty your hands.”

Instantly, Michael’s rage softened into tenderness. His eyes overflowed with affection as he gazed at her.

“Alright, alright! Whatever you say.”

“Don’t look at her anymore—it’ll only taint your eyes.”

He scooped up the signed paper, then led her out.

By the time I reached the Fire Safety Exhibition Hall, Robert’s body was already displayed on the platform.

Michael was nowhere in sight—only Sophie stood there, smiling sweetly, holding a bottle of liquid.

“Sister-in-law, take your time. I’ve got work to do.”

She slipped on gloves, twisted the cap open decisively. A pungent odor filled the air.

Sulfuric acid.

She poured it from Robert’s head down to his feet.

“Oh dear, this flesh is all charred. Let me clean it up for him.”

The scorched flesh instantly hissed into a bloody slurry.

Still unsatisfied, she grabbed a small hammer nearby and smashed the now-exposed bones.

“Only if it’s tragic enough will people remember!”

Within minutes, the acid-eaten skeleton was pounded into fragments.

No one could have recognized who it once was.

Busy with her work, Sophie dialed Michael.

“Captain, you have to praise me this time!”

“My Sophie, you’re amazing! Tomorrow I’ll put in the request to make you permanent!”

My stomach churned.

If not for the need to record video evidence, I would have left long ago.

Sophie swung the hammer in her hand proudly, boasting: