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My new beginning with Michael seemed perfect, especially with his doting mother, Susan, living right next door. She cooked me endless "special" meals and offered "optimal maternal wellness" vitamins, convinced I needed to be strong to start a family. But soon, a persistent fatigue set in. I started feeling weaker, not stronger. Then, I overheard Susan discussing a chilling "plan" where my growing paleness was a "good sign." The sweet meals became a source of dread, the vitamins a silent threat. Desperate, I faked a pregnancy to expose her, only for my husband Michael to confess a shocking secret orchestrated by his own mother: he was sterile. Susan, unfazed, then tried to make me drink a suspicious-looking "calming tea." Why was she systematically poisoning my body and sabotaging my future? What sinister motive lay beneath her doting facade? Was my husband merely a puppet in a game I didn't understand? With my life and health on the line, I knew I had no choice but to uncover the full, horrifying truth, even if it meant tearing apart the family I thought I married into.