THE VIDEO CALL THAT FROZE ME IN PLACE
I met Victor Miller at a media industry conference in Boston. At that time, I had just finished my master’s degree, while Victor had already been working for several years as an engineer. Ours was not love at first sight. Everything developed slowly, calmly, but deeply enough for both of us to believe we could walk together for a long time.
After two years of dating, we decided to get married.
Compared to me, Victor came from a far less complete family background. His parents divorced when he was ten years old. His mother moved to another state with his younger sister, while Victor stayed with his father—Richard Miller.
From that moment on, the two of them relied on each other to survive. Richard became both father and mother, working tirelessly to raise Victor, putting him through school, and teaching him to become a decent man. Perhaps because of that upbringing, Victor grew into a gentle, honest man who avoided conflict and valued family above all else.
He once told me:
“I don’t ever want my family to fall apart again.”
After our wedding, I moved in with Victor and my father-in-law in a two-story house in the suburbs. Before becoming a daughter-in-law, I had prepared myself mentally for many possible difficulties. But to my surprise, my father-in-law was incredibly easygoing.
Richard was not strict or controlling. On the contrary, he often helped me cook, clean the house, and even reminded me to rest when he saw me working too hard. Many times, I felt that he was more like a kind biological father than a typical father-in-law.
There were evenings when Victor worked late and only Richard and I had dinner together. He would tell me stories about his youth, about the years he raised Victor alone. His voice always grew quieter whenever he mentioned his failed marriage. Listening to him, I couldn’t help but feel deeply sorry for him.
His Decision to Return to His Hometown
About two months ago, Richard told us that he wanted to return to his hometown for a while to rest. Victor’s hometown is in a central state, where his family owns a small house that had been left empty for many years.
He said:
“It’s peaceful there, the air is fresh. I want to go back and clear my mind.”
Victor and I both agreed. Still, I worried about him living alone. Fortunately, my cousin lived nearby and suggested sending her son—Henry, a sixteen-year-old boy—to stay with Richard and keep him company.
Henry was polite and quick-witted. Knowing someone would be with my father-in-law gave us peace of mind.
From the day Richard returned to his hometown, he began calling me on video almost every day. At first, I found it a little strange. But then I thought maybe he was worried that Victor and I were living alone without anyone to take care of us.
He asked whether I was tired from work, whether Victor came home late, whether we were eating properly. Some days, he even showed me the vegetables he had planted or complained about the neighbor’s chickens ruining his garden.
I didn’t find it annoying at all. Instead, I felt even more sympathy for him. A widowed man who had devoted his entire life to his son—now living alone in the countryside—must feel lonely.
I often reassured him:
“Please don’t worry about us. Victor and I can take care of ourselves.”
He would simply smile gently.
The Unusual Late-Night Call
Everything remained normal until that night.
That evening, I had a late meeting with a client, so I couldn’t answer Richard’s usual video call around 7 p.m. I texted him to apologize and said I would call back later.
About an hour later, as I was heading to the parking lot, I returned the call.
It rang for a long time.
Just when I thought he wasn’t going to answer, his face appeared on the screen.
But something was terribly wrong.
Richard looked flushed, his shirt soaked with sweat, his hair disheveled. He was breathing heavily, and his voice lacked its usual calmness.
I panicked.
“Dad, are you okay? Are you feeling unwell?”
He shook his head repeatedly.
“No… no, I’m fine. I was just doing some housework.”
But a sense of unease crept over me. I noticed that the room behind him was darker than usual, the curtains half-drawn, the atmosphere strangely oppressive.
Worried, I asked:
“Where’s Henry? Let me talk to him.”
I raised my voice:
“Henry!”
No response.
My anxiety grew stronger. I imagined my father-in-law falling ill or having an accident while being alone.
I said:
“Let me call some relatives nearby to come check on you. I’m really worried.”
And then—something happened that nearly made me drop my phone.
The Moving Shadow Behind the Door
As I was speaking, my eyes drifted to the door behind my father-in-law.
And that was when I saw it.
Something was moving.
At first, I thought I was imagining things. But the shadow moved again—clearly, deliberately—like someone trying to hide from the camera.
My heart started pounding violently.
Before I could say anything, loud knocking echoed from outside. Someone was pounding on a door urgently.
The shadow behind him panicked.
In the next second, a woman suddenly rushed out, lowering her head, quickly opening the back door, and disappearing from the frame.
I was frozen in place.
It was the neighbor who lived right next to my father-in-law’s house.
A woman I had met before.
A woman who was married—with a family of her own.
I was completely speechless.
My father-in-law’s face turned pale. He fumbled with the phone, his voice trembling:
“Please… don’t misunderstand…”
And then he abruptly ended the call.
The screen went black.
I stood motionless in the parking lot, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold my phone.
His Plea for Silence
That night, Richard sent me a long message.
He explained repeatedly, saying it was just a moment of weakness, that loneliness had overwhelmed him, that he never intended to hurt anyone. In the end, he begged me:
“Please keep this to yourself. Don’t tell Victor. I’m begging you.”
My mind was in complete turmoil.
I felt shocked.
Disappointed.
Heartbroken.
I couldn’t believe that the gentle, respectable father-in-law I had admired could do something like this.
If he truly wanted companionship, why not choose a single woman?
Why get involved with another person’s family?
I thought about Victor—about how devastated he would be if he found out. He had always seen his father as a moral compass, the emotional pillar of his entire life.
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
What Should I Do?
Should I stay silent to protect the family?
Or speak the truth so everything could be brought into the light?
If I stay silent, am I enabling something wrong?
If I tell the truth, will I destroy the father–son bond Victor treasures more than anything?
I am trapped between morality and affection, between truth and consequences.
And even now…
I still don’t know what the right choice is.
