Chapter 7: The Price of Reputation

**Chapter Six**

At a dinner at the county commissioner’s house, I ran into Caleb’s mother.

Afraid her son would be criticized, Mrs. Evans did everything she could to shift the blame for the broken engagement onto me.

She gathered a group of local ladies and had just started gossiping when Grandma Shaw charged over, hand raised.

She slapped them, sharp and fast, like the crack of a baseball bat in summer.

"My daughter-in-law is a respected judge’s wife. Do you really think you can criticize her?"

In the stunned silence, even the crystal chandelier seemed to tremble. Mrs. Evans’s hand flew to her cheek, and her eyes widened in disbelief.

In the end, several people were slapped and all apologized to me.

Honestly, aside from lacking a husband’s company, my life those years was perfect.

My family ran a small chain of hardware stores—solid, but nothing fancy. Although we had money, the government had strict restrictions on certain things. Many things couldn’t be bought just with money.

For example, business families like ours had to stick to off-the-rack clothes—no designer labels, not unless you wanted the IRS sniffing around.

Pearls and expensive jewelry were restricted; silver accessories were limited.

For daily travel, they could only drive basic cars, not luxury sedans.

Now, as a judge’s wife, my standard of living rose several levels. In Maple Heights, I could practically do whatever I wanted.

My mother-in-law was also extremely generous. She didn’t require me to pay respects or serve her. I often slept in until noon, living more comfortably than I ever had at home.

Compared to that, not having a man didn’t seem so bad at all.

So I settled down in the Shaw family, staying for five years until the family’s downfall.

Before she died, my mother-in-law held my hand and asked me to take care of Ethan.

The Shaw family had treated me extremely well these years, so of course I couldn’t be ungrateful.

Ethan was in terrible shape then, lying in bed in a daze all day. Even when I tried to feed him chicken soup, he wouldn’t swallow.

He was only fourteen, having lived the first half of his life in luxury. Suddenly, with everything gone, he even thought about ending his life.

I held his hand and repeated over and over in his ear:

"Ethan, you’re not alone. You still have me."

"I will always, always stay with you."

"Ethan, I’ll always be your family."