Patricia stopped sobbing. She lifted her head, cupped my face in her hands, and said softly, her eyes red-rimmed, "Honey, I wasn't actually working late tonight."
"Then why did you come home so late?"
"I went to see a friend's younger brother. He went to the same school as us—he's a junior there now. He told me about a new laser therapy abroad that can eliminate 99.99% of cancer cells in a patient's body."
"I didn't know if it was real, so I went to ask him about it in person."
The moment I heard "junior"—
It made me even more suspicious that the "goddess senior" in that video was her.
Almost certainly her.
But I didn't call her out. Didn't confront her.
Instead, I played along. "So what did he say?"
"He said the treatment is real, but it's expensive. I want to use the money in our joint account to pay for it. Even if there's just the tiniest chance, I don't want to give up."
"You'll support me, won't you, honey?"
"Of course I will."
I nodded, then kissed her gently on the forehead. "I'll drop everything and go abroad with you for treatment."
"If it's about money, I'll sell everything we own. I'd sell a kidney if I had to."
The moment she heard that, Patricia took two steps back.