That day was supposed to be a birthday full of surprises and sweetness. My husband was involved in a tragic car accident in order to come back to celebrate my birthday, and his remains are gone. Afterwards, every anniversary, everyone in my mother-in-law's family believed that it was my birthday that caused him harm, forcing me to kneel before the grave and confess, tears of humiliation flowing countless times. But fate played tricks on me. One time when I got home from work, I was followed and murdered by criminals. Not long after his death, my husband appeared with a mistress who had eloped for six years. They were chatting and laughing as if the pain and suffering of these years had never existed
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