A newlywed changed the linens daily until one morning, her mother-in-law enters and discovers blood on the bed. disclosing a secret that devastates every mother’s heart…

 My son Paulo had been married to Mira for merely one week. Their wedding in Batangas was unadorned, yet it was replete with laughter, tears, and heartfelt vows. Initially, Mira appeared to be the ideal daughter-in-law—gentle, polite, consistently courteous, her pleasant smile illuminating every aspect of our home. Neighbours and relatives alike commended her. “We are genuinely fortunate to have such a gracious daughter-in-law,” I would assert to my acquaintances at the market. For demonstration purposes exclusively. However, within a few days post-wedding, I started observing something peculiar… Each morning, without exception, Mira transported the bed linens and blankets outdoors to launder and dry in the sunlight. On several days, she even substituted them twice. I once enquired, “Why do you alter the bedding daily, daughter?” She merely smiled gently and responded, “I am allergic to dust, Nanay.” I experience improved sleep quality when my surroundings are pristine. Nevertheless, I was unable to dispel my uncertainties. All the linens were pristine, aromatic, and meticulously selected for the wedding. No member of our family had allergies. Gradually, distrust infiltrated my heart—something was concealed. For demonstration purposes exclusively. One morning, I feigned my departure to the market. As Mira descended to the kitchen, I discreetly entered their room. Upon opening the door, a pungent metallic odour assailed my senses. My heart raced as I approached the bed. With quaking hands, I raised the sheet… My knees almost gave way. The white mattress was marred by blood—thick, dark, and pervasive. It was not menstrual blood. It appeared altered—more disconcerting. In a state of panic, I unlocked the drawers. Contained therein were rolls of bandages, a bottle of disinfectant, and a meticulously folded, blood-stained undershirt. I hurried downstairs, seized Mira by the wrist, and drew her back up. “Clarify this for me!” What is occurring? What is the cause of the presence of blood? Why are you concealing this? For demonstration purposes exclusively. Initially, she remained mute. Her body shook, tears filled her eyes, and her lips trembled. She then fell into my embrace, weeping inconsolably. “Mother…” Paulo is afflicted with advanced leukaemia. The physicians indicated he had merely months remaining. We expedited the wedding due to my inability to part from him. I wished to remain, regardless of the brevity of the duration. My existence disintegrated. My son—the child I nurtured and cherished—concealed his anguish solely to shield me. He choose to suffer in silence to prevent my distress. That evening, I was unable to slumber. I lay gazing at the ceiling, contemplating the suffering Paulo experienced and the silent dedication Mira exhibited. The following morning, I visited the market and purchased fresh linens. I assisted Mira in cleaning the old items. Each subsequent day, I arose early to support her—to support them both. One morning, while we changed the bedding together, I embraced her firmly. “I appreciate your assistance, Mira…” for expressing affection towards my son. For residence. For selecting him, despite the awareness of inevitable loss. Three months later, in the tranquilly of morning, Paulo gently expired in his sleep, with Mira holding his hand and whispering “I love you” until his last breath. For demonstration purposes exclusively. There was no conflict. Fearlessness. Exclusively tranquilly. With a little smile on his face. From that day onwards, Mira remained.

 She did not rejoin her parents. She did not remarry. Instead, she remained with me, assisting in the operation of our modest food booth. She regarded me as if I were her own mother. Two years have elapsed. When individuals enquire, “Why does Mira continue to remain with you?” I only grin and respond: “Because she was not solely my son’s spouse…” She also became my daughter. This will eternally remain her residence. This work draws inspiration from actual events and individuals, although it has been fictionalised for artistic purposes. Names, personalities, and particulars have been altered to safeguard privacy and enrich the tale. Any similarity to real individuals, whether living or deceased, or actual occurrences is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.