After losing my job of 14 years with no warning, I was desperate. With bills piling up and no luck finding another office job, I reluctantly signed up for cleaning work on a service platform. When I received a notification for a one-time job at a mansion, offering $800 for a day’s work, I hesitated—but the pay was too good to pass up. The instructions were strange: a key would be under the doormat, and I wouldn’t meet the owners. Arriving at the mansion, I immediately regretted my decision. The place reeked, and I was stunned by the chaos inside. Garbage littered the floors, clothes were torn and scattered,

and the walls were smeared with what looked like ketchup and mustard. This wasn’t just a messy home—it was a place that had been deliberately destroyed. I started cleaning, but the more I worked, the more I realized the mess had been created intentionally. Torn bags, scissor-cut clothes, and smeared fingerprints on the walls—it was all part of some twisted plan. That’s when I heard the front door click open. I turned to find none other than Brenda, my mother-in-law, standing there with a smug look on her face. She’d orchestrated this whole thing,