After I Used Savings to Save Someone, My Husband Jailed Me

Seven minutes. That was all the time left before the liver failure from the poisoning killed my mother-in-law.

I'd dug my husband Thomas Henson's debit card, the one holding five hundred thousand dollars, out of the drawer, and I'd barely made it into the hospital lobby.

Two police officers and my husband, Thomas Henson, stepped straight into my path.

"Mr. Henson reported that you were maliciously hiding a large sum of marital assets."

Frantic, I tried to push past them, pointing at the payment window. "My mother is in the ICU waiting on this money to save her life. Let me pay first!"

Thomas snatched the card out of my hand, his eyes mocking.

"Yesterday you were pushing me to give this money to your brother for a car. I said no. So today you drag your mother into it as an excuse?"

"Your mother isn't having some mushroom allergy. Rita Simmons, your lies are getting clumsier by the day."

I pulled out my phone to call the attending physician. My hands shook so hard I couldn't even unlock the screen.

The call went through, and a cold, mechanical woman's voice announced, "We're sorry. The person you are calling cannot be reached at this time."

The countdown was closing in, second by second, and I all but knelt on the floor, begging him. "Thomas, if I'm lying to you, I'll walk straight out that door and let a car run me down. Please, just pay it first!"

He gave a cold snort and looked at the officers. "What are you standing around for? Take this lying woman away."

At that exact moment, the red emergency light above us went dark with a crash.

I let go of his pant leg, the one I'd been clinging to for dear life, rose slowly to my feet, and held out both hands.

"I won't pay it now. Officer, go ahead. Cuff me."

...

Thomas pointed at the doors of the operating room.

"Rita, you think putting on this little act with the handcuffs is going to make me go soft?"

"I'm telling you, not one cent of this five hundred thousand is going to your worthless brother for a car. Not today."

I looked at him and spoke quietly.

"Thomas, are you sure? You won't let me pay with the card?"

"Enough of your nonsense!" Thomas shoved the card into his own pocket. "Officers, caught red-handed!"

"She's trying to move marital assets. Take her away, now!"

The two officers exchanged a glance.

One of them, a younger officer, hesitated. "Mr. Henson, if there really is someone in there being resuscitated"

"Resuscitated, my ass!" Thomas exploded. "Officer, I want to press fraud charges against her!"

The officer let out a sigh and stepped forward.

"Ms. Simmons, please come with us for questioning."

The cold handcuffs closed around my wrists.

The lights in the interrogation room were harsh. I sat on the cold metal chair.

The young officer across from me handed me a cup of warm water.

"Ms. Simmons, your husband is accusing you of maliciously moving five hundred thousand dollars in marital assets."

"Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

I watched the water shiver in the cup, my voice dry.

"There really is five hundred thousand on that card."

"It's the emergency fund we saved together when we got married."

"I took it to the hospital to pay for the resuscitation."

The officer flipped through the statement in his hands.

"But Mr. Henson says it was to buy your brother a car."

"He also provided the messages between you two from yesterday."

The officer pushed a few printed screenshots across the table toward me.

They really were messages I'd sent to Thomas.

Thomas, my brother has his eye on a car and he's a little short on the down payment. Could we lend him ten thousand for now?

He promises he'll pay it back by the end of the year.

Below that came Thomas's icy reply.

No money.

Your family's a bottomless pit. Don't think you're getting a single cent out of me.

I looked at the screenshots, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

"Yes, I did bring it up."

"But after he turned me down, I never mentioned it again."

"Going to the hospital today was because of a sudden emergency. Someone needed money to save their life."

The officer stared into my eyes.

"A sudden emergency? Who had the emergency?"

I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"My... family member."

"Family member? Who exactly?" the officer pressed.

"Someone who matters a great deal to me."

Just then, the door of the interrogation room was pushed open.

Another officer stepped in and murmured something in the young officer's ear.

The young officer's expression shifted slightly, and he nodded.

He turned to look at me.

"Ms. Simmons, we've heard back from Downtown Memorial."

"The patient in the ICU has been confirmed dead."

"And the cause of death was acute liver failure from eating poisonous mushrooms."

He paused, and his tone grew complicated.

"The hospital confirmed that if the five-hundred-thousand deposit had been paid in time so they could bring in blood plasma for a full transfusion,"

"the patient would have had an eighty percent chance of survival."

I closed my eyes, and the tears slid down without a sound.

"Bang! "

The door of the interrogation room was kicked open.

Thomas swaggered in with his private lawyer.

"Officer, no need to keep questioning her."

He dragged out a chair and sat down, sprawled and arrogant.

"She's already admitted it, hasn't she?"

"Using her own mother's death as a setup to swindle money out of me."

I opened my eyes and looked at him coldly.

"Thomas, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to give you a way out."

He pulled a document out of his briefcase and slapped it down on the table.

"Divorce agreement."

"Just sign it, agree to walk away with nothing,"

"and publicly admit in front of the media that you hid marital assets and attempted fraud."

"Then, out of the goodness of my heart, I'll go down to the police station and drop the case."

He leaned forward and lowered his voice.

"Otherwise, half a million on the table is more than enough to keep you inside for a few years stitching prison uniforms."

I looked down at the agreement. It was all spelled out.

I would voluntarily give up all property, vehicles, and savings in my name.

I would even take on most of our shared debt.

"Walk away with nothing?" I laughed.

"Thomas, you've really got this all figured out."

"That five hundred thousand is our shared property, and half the down payment on the house is mine too."

"What gives you the right to send me out with nothing?"

Thomas gave a cold snort.

"The right?"

"The right that you're a greedy leech who bleeds herself dry for that brother of yours!"

"The right that you used something as low as faking your own mother's death to con money!"

He pointed at my face, spit flying.

"Rita, I've put up with you long enough!"

"Three years of marriage, and how much have you hauled back to your family?"

"Your brother's college tuition, your parents' medical bills, which one of them wasn't sucking me dry?"

I looked at him quietly.

Three years of marriage.

Every cent of my own salary had gone to the household expenses, while his money stayed locked in his fist.

When my parents got sick, I paid with my own savings.

My brother worked his way through school, and now and then I'd chip in a couple hundred for living costs.

In his mouth, that became me sucking him dry.

"Thomas." I cut off his tirade.

"At the hospital today, did you even look at the body?"

Thomas waved a hand, indifferent.

"Look at what? At that old woman playing dead?"

"She's not worth the dirt in my eyes."

He rapped the table, impatient.

"Enough talk. Sign it."

"I don't have time to sit here wasting the whole night with you."

"My sister Chloe Henson's flying back today. I've got a welcome dinner to throw for her."

I looked at him, and the whole thing struck me as absurd.

"Fine."

I picked up the pen and signed my name on the agreement.

Thomas snatched the paper away at once and checked it over carefully.

"Smart of you."

He flicked the sheet, satisfied.

"Counselor, go handle the paperwork to drop the case."

He stood, looking down at me.

"Rita, from here on, even if you're starving in the street, don't come crawling to me."

I watched his back as he turned to go, my voice soft as a passing breeze.

"Thomas, I hope you sleep well tonight."

After Thomas left, they took the cuffs off me.

Because he'd dropped the case.

And because the five hundred thousand had never actually been transferred.

The police gave me a short talking-to and let me go.

When I walked out of the station, the sky had already gone dark.

I took out my phone.

The screen was blank. Not a single missed call.

I wandered the streets with nowhere to go.

Across town, Thomas sat in a private room at the most expensive restaurant in the city.

The table was crowded with rich, expensive dishes.

Chloe raised her glass of red wine, laughing so hard she was shaking.

"Big brother, congratulations!"

"You finally got rid of that gold digger!"

Thomas clinked his glass against hers, pleased with himself.

"Right? Didn't cost me a cent, and she walked out with nothing."

"Clean win, no downside."

Chloe took a sip and frowned a little, puzzled.

"But brother, is her mom really dead?"

"She always seemed like such a devoted daughter. If the woman were really dead, would she sign that fast?"

Thomas snorted.

"Dead, my ass. The whole thing was a setup."

"Think about it. If the woman were actually dead, would she sign that obediently?"

It clicked for Chloe.

"So that's it! God, that's disgusting!"

"Brother, you're so sharp. You saw through her little scheme in one look!"

The praise went straight to Thomas's head.

"Of course. You think my money's that easy to con out of me?"

He glanced at his watch, brow creasing slightly.

"By the way, why isn't Mom here yet?"

"Weren't we all supposed to do your welcome dinner tonight?"

Chloe pulled out her phone and checked it too.

"I've called Mom a bunch of times. Phone's been off the whole time."

"Maybe the signal's bad up in the mountains?"

"She said yesterday she was going up the back hill to pick some rare mushrooms. Wanted to make you a stew, build your strength back up."

Thomas waved it off, unconcerned.

"Forget her. The old lady loves fussing over that stuff."

"We'll just eat without her."

The two of them drank and toasted, having a fine time.

Well-fed and full of wine, Thomas paid the bill.

"Come on, I'll drive you home."

The car stopped in front of the villa.

Thomas got out, ready to help his sister with the luggage.

He'd just reached the front door.

"Thud!"

His foot caught something hard.

Thomas stumbled and nearly went down.

"Damn it, what the hell is that?"

He looked down. A battered bamboo basket.

It had already been kicked over.

Mushrooms in every color had scattered across the ground.

Thomas froze.

Chloe came over, saw the mushrooms on the ground, and pinched her nose in distaste.

"Ugh, what kind of job is the cleaning service doing? Dumping garbage right at the front door!"

Thomas stared at the basket on the ground, and an uneasiness he couldn't name rose in his chest.

Just then, the phone in his pocket started buzzing wildly.

Thomas pulled out his phone. An unfamiliar landline number lit the screen.

He answered with a frown.

"Hello? Who is this?"

A serious male voice came through.

"Am I speaking with Mr. Thomas Henson?"

"This is Officer Wallace, from the Longbridge Community Police Station."

Thomas's stomach dropped, but the tension eased just as fast.

Longbridge Police Station?

Probably that woman Rita pulling some new stunt.

"Yeah, this is him. What's the problem, Officer?"

"Is it my ex-wife Rita again, making trouble down there?"

"Let me tell you, I've already signed the divorce papers with her. Whatever she does is nothing to do with me."

The officer on the line went quiet for two seconds, his tone turning heavier.

"Mr. Henson, we're not calling about Ms. Simmons."

"We need you to come to the Downtown Memorial Hospital morgue as soon as possible."

"To identify a body."

Thomas froze.

The morgue? A body?

His first thought was that Rita's mother had actually died.

"Officer, you've got the wrong person, haven't you?"

Thomas gave a cold laugh.

"The one who died is Rita's mother. Go find her, why come to me?"

"I already told you, I'm divorced from her!"

The officer's voice carried an edge of displeasure.

"Mr. Henson! Please cooperate!"

"The deceased has no identification on her, only a broken flip phone."

"We recovered the contacts, and you're the only emergency contact listed."

"You need to come now and confirm the identity!"

The line went dead. Thomas stood rooted where he was.

Rita's mother, why would she ever save him as her emergency contact?

Thomas's gaze.

Dropped again to the battered wicker basket on the ground.

Those scattered mushrooms, glinting strangely under the streetlight.

"Thomas? What's wrong with you? You look awful."

Thomas snapped back and grabbed Chloe's arm.

"Chloe... where's Mom?"

"That call you made to her just now, did it go through?"

Chloe winced under his grip and complained.

"No, still switched off. Why?"

Thomas's breathing came fast and ragged.

"The hospital... hurry! Get to the hospital!"

He half-scrambled into the car, and it shot off like an arrow loosed from a string.

Downtown Memorial Hospital, second basement level, the morgue.

Thomas and Chloe stumbled out of the elevator.

The first thing they saw was the officer standing at the morgue door.

And...

Me, leaning against the wall, expressionless.

The moment he saw me, Thomas rushed over like a drowning man grabbing at a straw.

He yanked my collar, his eyes bloodshot.

"Rita! What are you doing here?!"

"Say something!"

I let him hold on, watching him coldly, saying nothing.

The officer pushed open the door of the mortuary room.

A body lay in the center under a white sheet.

"Mr. Henson, please come confirm it."

Thomas edged forward, one step at a time, to the table.

Behind him, Chloe was trembling with fear.

I looked at the state of him and laughed, cold and short.

"What? Afraid to lift it?"

Without hesitation I reached out and grabbed the edge of the sheet.

"Thomas, open your damn eyes and look."

"Whose mother is this, really!"

The sheet was ripped away with a snap.