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My mother-in-law, Nora, lay dying from a cerebral hemorrhage, and only one person could save her—her son Owen, a renowned surgeon. My heart clung to a fragile hope, begging for Owen to rush back and perform the surgery that could save Nora's life. Swallowing my grief, I called him, only to be answered by the voice of his childhood sweetheart. "Owen is celebrating my birthday with me," she said. "He told me today belongs to me and me alone. Stop calling him." Before I could utter a word, she hung up. Nora passed away, leaving her entire estate to me. Furious, Owen accused me of being vicious and cruel, blaming me for keeping him from seeing his mother one last time. I met his anger with a cold laugh. "Tell me, Owen, who was it that really killed your mother? Wasn't it you, the ever-devoted son?"