While my husband worked, my father-in-law showed me the bathroom floor littered with tiles, cement, and a plastic bag.

My husband was at work when my father-in-law pulled me aside and told me he needed to show me something in the bathroom. When I entered, tile and cement were scattered on the floor and a plastic bag lay among the debris.

We were alone at home. My husband had left for work and I was doing chores when a rough hand settled on my shoulder.

Where’s your husband?” a hoarse voice asked from behind me.

I spun around to find my father-in-law standing there, pale and trembling.

“At work,” I answered, bewildered. “What’s wrong?”

“Go to the bathroom. I found something… I think it belongs to your husband.”

My stomach dropped.

“He’s… cheating on me?” I murmured.

“No,” he said. “But you should see for yourself.”

I walked into the bathroom and stopped d3ad. The wall by the sink had been smashed; chunks of tile and plaster lay everywhere, and a clear plastic bag rested in the dust.

He wordlessly indicated the bag. I crouched, picked it up with shaking fingers, and unsealed it.

My hands trembled as I opened the bag. It wasn’t jewelry or cash. It was heavy iron. A weapon.

“Oh my God,” I breathed. “Is this… your son’s?”

My father-in-law nodded, worry etched into his face.

“Yes. And that’s not the worst of it.”

“Explain,” I demanded. “Why would he have a gun? What does this mean?”

He drew a long breath and sat on the tub’s rim as if he’d run out of strength.

“He’s in deep debt. I’ve suspected for a while he’s been hiding trouble from us. Then, a month ago, a stranger came to me and said plainly, ‘If your son doesn’t complete the task, your whole family will pay. His wife, his parents, his children — none of you will have peace.’”

A cold dread washed over me.

“What task?” I whispered.

He dropped his gaze.

“He was forced to do a job for these people. It’s so serious I can’t even say the details. If he refuses, they’ll ruin everything he cares about.”

I sat down on the floor, stunned.

“How did they even know it was hidden in the wall?” I asked.

My father-in-law met my eyes, exhausted.

“Because they told me. They knew everything — where he keeps weapons, where he hides money, even when you go shopping. They showed me deliberately so I would understand: nothing is hidden from them.”

Silence spread through the room. I felt everything collapsing.

“So what do we do?” I asked, barely moving my lips.

He clenched his hands.

“We have two choices. Stay silent and let him finish it… or try to find a way out ourselves. But remember: if they suspect anything, it’ll be the end of all of us.”