My Mother-in-Law Demanded Proof of My Purity, So I Left

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1: 1

The first time I went to my boyfriend's rural hometown, we'd barely stepped inside before his mother demanded to check that I was still pure.

Brookie, come inside with me first and let me check you. Once the white cloth shows red, then we can settle the marriage.

His father stood off to the side, hands clasped behind his back, backing her up.

"We're a respectable family, and Wilfred Swanson's an educated boy. We're not letting him pick up shoes someone else already wore out."

I stared, speechless, and turned to Wilfred beside me.

"You agree with this too?"

Wilfred sighed, wearing the wounded look of a man who'd sacrificed so much for me.

"You just lie down in there for two minutes and it'll be over fast. I even begged them to use the thin probe for you."

"See how good I am to you? I actually talked back to my own mother for your sake. You wouldn't want to make me lose face, would you?"

I looked at that charitable expression on his face and let out a cold laugh.

"And if I refuse?"

His father hawked and spat on the ground.

"Refusing means you've got something to hide. Today I'll drag your name through the mud, and then let's see what decent man will still take you."

I looked at this family's shameless faces, and my fury curdled into a laugh.

"Fine, you can check me. But my family has a rule for meeting the in-laws too."

His mother glared at me with narrow, spiteful eyes. "What rule?"

"First visit, the groom's family gets slapped a hundred times for luck."

"It proves you've lived a clean life, and it beats the poverty out of your roots. Very auspicious."

...

His mother had looked at me like an eyesore from the moment I walked in, and this pushed her over the edge.

"Talking nonsense. Slapped for luck, my foot. Who do you think you are?"

"I always said these city seductresses have no shame, not one of them. Who knows how many men she's been through?"

His father stalked up in front of me, cold-faced, jabbing a finger at my nose as he cursed.

"You're a cheap piece who won't even ask for a bride price, and you dare talk back to your elders?"

I stepped back and bumped into Wilfred's chest, turning to look at him for help.

Three years together, and he'd always been the gentlest, most proper man, never once crossing a line with me.

He knew better than anyone how firmly I held to my chastity. I thought he'd step forward, say something, anything.

Instead, his face went livid, and he shoved my shoulder hard enough to send me stumbling.

"Brooklyn, what nonsense are you spouting?"

"My mother's teaching you the rules. Don't tell me you can't even accept a blessing like this?"

I caught the edge of the table and steadied myself, a rough wooden splinter slicing a cut across my palm.

"You want this blessing? Take it yourself. Wilfred, wake up. What century do you think this is?"

He curled his lip, and instead pulled out a chair, sat down, and crossed his legs.

"I never held your past relationships against you. My mother's doing this for your own good, so don't be difficult."

Then he put the wounded look back on his face.

"In exchange, I already swore to my mother that after we marry, you'll handle all the housework."

I glared at him. "Who gave you the right to decide for me?"

Wilfred snorted.

"Brooklyn, you don't know a good thing when you've got it."

"A big-company manager like me, pulling in five figures a month, taking an interest in you? That's luck you earned over eight lifetimes."

His mother chimed in from the side at once.

"Exactly. Look at what my Wilfred's got going for him. If you hadn't thrown yourself at him, would he ever have looked twice at you?"

Wilfred patted the top of my head.

"Once you pass the check we can get married. I already worked it out with my mother. From now on you can get up at six to cook."

"It was supposed to be five. See how good I am to you?"

I stared at that hypocritical face, and a wave of disgust rose in me.

To be sure he really liked me, the person, and wasn't after the Henson money,

I'd deliberately hidden where I came from.

I thought he was gentle, kind, a man who stood up for what mattered.

Only now did I understand it was nothing but an investment in a free maid.

"Wilfred, forget the marriage, it doesn't need settling. We're breaking up."

I turned and headed for the door.

I hadn't taken two steps before a crowd surged in through the courtyard gate.

Seven or eight middle-aged women, and a few big, thick-set men, packed the gateway solid.

"Oh, thinking of running? Three years of living off my Wilfred, and now you squeeze your legs shut and try to slip away?"

"She's probably been running loose out there. Scared of the check, that's why she's in such a hurry to bolt."

Wilfred yanked me back by force, his knuckles white with the grip, the pain sharp enough to make me suck in a breath.

"Today you get checked whether you want to or not."

He shouted toward the house.

"Mom, she agreed. Go ahead and get ready."

His mother carried an iron basin out from the inner room. The water in it looked clean enough.

But a blackened iron probe soaked inside it, its surface crusted with rust.

"Everybody lend a hand. Strip this ungrateful little thing and drag her in."

I fought with everything I had to wrench my arm free, watching the crowd close in around me.

And Wilfred, just to show his authority in front of the relatives, clamped a hand on my shoulder.

His other hand rose high in the air.

2: 2

His palm cracked across my face, leaving a burning sting.

My ears rang, my vision swam, and it took a second to focus again.

Wilfred shook out his hand and turned to the yard full of relatives, his face lit with smug triumph.

"Don't push your luck. You're in Swanson Hollow now. You do what I say."

I clutched my cheek, shaking with rage, and slapped him right back.

A few of the women rushed in the moment I was distracted.

They pinned me down and yanked hard at the shirtdress I was wearing.

"Hold still. It'll be over once we've checked you."

I shoved with everything I had, but five pairs of hands were far more than I could fight off alone.

One of the buttons at my collar had already popped loose.

Seeing me still fighting, his mother stamped her foot in fury.

"Hold her down. Let her learn what the rules are."

She spun around and charged back into the house.

Wilfred wouldn't even look at me now. He paced the yard with his hands behind his back, actually humming a little tune.

His father, meanwhile, sidled over, his eyes gleaming as they fixed on the two suitcases I'd brought.

They were packed with the gifts I'd chosen so carefully, along with a few changes of clothes.

"Open the cases. Anything that comes through my door, I get to look over first, as the father-in-law."

He shot a glance at the nephew beside him.

The nephew stepped up and dragged the cases into the middle of the yard.

He couldn't get the locks open, so he grabbed a screwdriver and pried savagely at the combination locks.

With a sharp crack, the clasp gave way.

My clothes, my makeup, my toiletries, all of it dumped out onto the dirt of the yard.

"Come look, everybody. City women sure know how to burn money. Nothing but gaudy junk."

The man held up my underwear and shook it out in front of the dozens of people in the yard.

The aunts swarmed in, pawing through my private things like they were fighting over cabbage at a market.

"This fabric's really nice. Perfect for my daughter."

"What's this bottle? Why does it smell so good? I'm taking this home."

A young wife held up my silk nightgown and shouted to her friend.

"This one's so slippery. You wear this at night, go seduce your man with it."

The whole yard broke into laughter.

My makeup got walked off with, my silk nightgown stretched out of shape.

My temples throbbed with fury, but pinned down like that I could do nothing.

Somewhere in the scramble, a jade bracelet slid out of my bag and turned two slow circles on the ground.

My grandmother had slipped it off her own wrist and pressed it into my palm before she died.

She'd told me it had come down from her own grandmother, worn by four generations.

She said to carry it whenever I had somewhere important to be, and it would keep me safe.

His father's gaze snapped to it at once.

He bent down and picked it up, turning it over and over against the sunlight, his eyes darting greedily.

"Well now, this is something good. Smooth as anything to the touch. Must be worth a fair bit."

I don't know where the strength came from, but I wrenched free of their grip.

I snatched the bracelet back out of his hand and clutched it hard against me.

"Don't touch my grandmother's things!"

His father's face went dark on the spot.

"Once you're through my door, everything you've got belongs to the Swanson family."

"Besides, every stitch you've got on, wasn't it bought with my son's money?"

He grabbed a pair of fire tongs from against the wall and brought them down hard on the back of the hand shielding the bracelet.

A crack.

The bracelet broke into several pieces, the shards biting into the flesh of my palm.

Blood welled up between my fingers, soaking into the white splinters of jade.

I bowed my head, staring at the blood filling my hand and the fragments that could never be pieced back together, and my whole body shook violently.

Wilfred came over, glanced down at the broken jade on the ground, and spoke without a shred of concern.

"It's just a cheap glass ring. So it broke. Who's the long face for?"

"Once we're married, I'll buy you ten gold-and-silver ones. Plenty of face for you."

His father flung the fire tongs to the ground and jabbed a finger at my face, cursing.

"Not even married in yet and already guarding your food. Ungrateful little thing."

"A stubborn mule like this needs three days locked in the donkey pen, half-starved. Give it some bran-water and it'll behave!"

The relatives around us actually nodded along.

"That's right. Two days locked up and she'll fall in line."

"The last one who wouldn't listen came out on her knees after a single night."

I wiped hard at the corner of my eye and refused to let the tears fall.

Slowly I reached out with my uninjured hand and pulled my phone from the side pocket of my dress.

A few of the women instinctively lunged to snatch it.

But Wilfred waved them back, stopping them.

"It's fine, let her call. I'd like to see just what kind of trick she thinks she can pull today."

3: 3

Wilfred dragged a stool over and sat down right in front of me.

He crossed his legs, the top one bouncing, and looked me over like I was a trained monkey putting on a show.

"Brooklyn, you told me your dad was just a retired factory worker and your mom stayed home."

He lifted his chin at me.

"So what are you playing at, pretending to be somebody?"

I didn't answer him. My finger found my dad's number on the screen and hit call.

Wilfred wasn't worried in the least.

"Go on, call. Let me tell you something. We're a couple, we're about to get married."

"Even if the cops show up, this is a family matter. Nobody can touch it."

"You could summon God himself down here today, and you'd still follow the Swanson family's rules."

For some reason, a call he always picked up in a second was still ringing. On and on.

Right then, my mother-in-law finally came out of the house, carrying a big deep bowl in her hands.

The liquid inside was cloudy and gray, with clumps floating on the surface, giving off a sharp, sour reek.

I nearly gagged on the spot.

"What are you doing?"

She put on a smile and held the bowl out to me.

"This is the ritual tea. Every new bride marrying into the Swanson family has to drink it before she comes through the door."

Seeing me go pale, her grin turned even more shameless.

"It's the water the whole family washed our feet in. Sat three days now. The older it gets, the better it works."

"Drink this bowl down and I guarantee you'll be meek for the rest of your life, head bowed, never daring to talk back to your elders again."

I turned my face away, so sick I could barely breathe.

Wilfred stood, grabbed my chin and forced it up, pressing the rim of the bowl hard against my lips.

"Be good. Drink the ritual tea, then kneel and knock your head on the ground three times for my parents."

"Do that, and I'll forgive you for acting up just now."

I clenched my jaw shut.

But that sour, rotten stink kept crawling up my nose, and my stomach heaved.

I'd already decided. Even if I had to bite my own tongue off today, I would never drink that thing.

Wilfred bore down harder, his fingers digging into my cheeks until they ached.

"Open your mouth."

I whipped my head sideways with everything I had and slammed my forehead into the rim of the bowl.

It flew out of his hand and shattered into two pieces on the ground.

The filthy, stinking water splashed across one leg of Wilfred's pants and all over me.

"You little bitch."

Wilfred flew into a rage, seized a fistful of my hair and yanked it back, a tearing pain shooting across my scalp.

"You had your chance to do this the easy way!"

"If you didn't come without a bride price, you think I'd have lowered myself to sweet-talk you for three whole years?"

He let go of my hair and shoved me stumbling, then the people behind me shoved me roughly back.

Wilfred pointed at the pigsty in the corner of the yard and shouted.

"Drag her into the pigsty. No food for three days."

"Whenever she opens her mouth to beg me, then we'll finish the virginity check."

Off to the side, my mother-in-law was so worked up her face had gone red.

"Yes, starve her. Once she can't stand up anymore, she'll behave on her own."

"When she's desperate enough, I'll feed her a couple mouthfuls of slop water. She'll be on her knees begging, guaranteed."

Two burly men grabbed me by the arms from either side and dragged me toward the pigsty.

My feet scraped two pale lines across the ground. I had nothing left to fight back with.

As that raw pigsty stench grew closer, the eager grunting of the pigs was already drifting to my ears.

The instant they dragged me to the pigsty gate, the call in my hand connected.

My dad's deep, steady voice came through from the other end.

"Brookie, what's wrong?"

4: 4

Before I could get a word out.

Wilfred strode over and snatched the phone straight out of my hand.

When he saw the name I'd saved my father under, he let out a contemptuous little laugh and hit speaker.

"Everybody listen up. Let's hear what tune her broke daddy's got for us."

He leaned in close to the phone, pitching his voice loud.

"Uncle, your daughter doesn't know her place, won't take correction. We're just teaching her how to be a good wife."

"So don't you worry your head about it. Come New Year's, I'll let her give you a call."

"I, Wilfred Swanson, will have her broken in nice and obedient."

The line went silent all at once.

I knew that silence. It was what my father did right before he lost his temper.

Wilfred thought he'd scared him into it, and his grin only turned smugger.

"Uncle, don't say I didn't warn you. Brooklyn's whole rotten streak has a lot to do with how she was raised."

"But it's fine. Give me a few days and I'll have it fixed. No need to thank me."

My father's voice came through the phone again.

The urgency was gone. In its place was a cold that crawled up the back of your neck for no reason you could name.

"Boy. Lay one more hand on her and see what happens. My car's already at the edge of your village."

Wilfred blinked, then burst out laughing.

"Ha! Uncle, you really know how to put on a show. What'd you ride in on? A three-wheeler? A little electric scooter?"

The yard erupted in laughter.

"Bet he came on a tractor."

"Broke as a joke and still trying to talk tough. I'm dying here."

His father chimed in from the side, all snide.

"A family that poor, so broke they were too embarrassed to even ask for a bride price. What kind of car could they possibly have?"

Wilfred killed the smile and gave a cold snort.

"A little nothing household like yours, and you think landing a rising talent like me isn't already reaching way above your station?"

"Uncle, don't say I didn't warn you. This is Swanson Hollow. My turf."

"Your daughter sets the rules straight today, or she doesn't walk out that gate."

He turned a slow circle with the phone in hand, winking at the crowd of gawking relatives.

They caught his meaning and jumped right in.

A shrill-voiced aunt crowded up to the phone.

"In-law, don't blame us for being blunt. Your girl's got no sense at all. She needs a good hand on her."

A man's grating, cracked voice came right after.

"Tell that old man, if she doesn't behave, we'll strip your daughter bare and string her up in the tree today for everyone to see."

The others whooped it up.

"Now that's a good plan. Let us all get an eyeful, see what this city woman's really made of."

Wilfred nodded, satisfied, and brought the phone back to his mouth.

"Hear that, Uncle? These rules get set today whether she likes it or not!"

"You could show up in person and it still wouldn't matter. What's a laid-off factory worker going to do? Call the cops?"

"Let me tell you, the nearest station's twelve miles from here. By the time they roll in, I'll have finished setting her straight long ago."

He shrugged at the relatives around him.

"That paycheck of yours couldn't even cover a lawyer, could it? If I were you, I'd wise up and just"

Halfway through, his voice cut off dead.

Because the ground under his feet had started to shake.

At first it was just a faint tremor, like heavy trucks passing somewhere far off.

But the shaking grew, heavier and faster.

The cured bacon strung up in the yard swung back and forth, and a washbasin in the corner clattered to the ground.

Everyone stopped laughing and talking, staring blankly toward the outside.

The roar of dozens of engines gunning their throttles at once rolled in from the edge of the village.

The phone in Wilfred's hand was still on speaker.

And the engine roar coming through that phone matched the roar beyond the yard wall exactly.

The hand gripping the phone began to tremble.

A wall of yellow dust surged in over the yard wall.

Through the gap in the gate, I saw a motorcade with no end in sight.

Dozens of heavy trucks led the way, and behind them, a black Rolls-Royce.

The convoy crushed over the village's rutted dirt road and braked to a stop right outside the Swanson yard.

Then countless security men in black suits poured out of the vehicles.

A dark mass of them filled the whole road outside the gate.

In the middle of the crowd, the rear door of the Rolls-Royce was pushed open from the inside.

A broad-shouldered middle-aged man climbed out, swept a cold glance over the yard, and spoke slowly.

"I hear setting rules is all the rage around here. How about... we hear the Henson family's rules too?"