The warm scent of cinnamon and baked apples filled the Whitmore household as Margaret carefully pulled the golden-brown pie from the oven. She hummed a soft hymn under her breath, the familiar melody bringing her a sense of comfort as she set the dish down to cool. The crust was perfectly flaky, just as her mother had taught her years ago. With delicate precision, she adjusted the folds of her apron and wiped her hands against the fabric. This pie was a small gesture, a simple welcome for the new neighbor who had just moved in next door. It was only right to extend kindness after all, that was the Christian thing to do. Still, as she glanced at the clock, a quiet nervousness settled in her chest. "Oh dear, I hope they don’t think I’m intruding" she murmured to herself, gently pressing her fingers together. A small giggle echoed from the hallway as her daughter peeked into the kitchen, her bright eyes filled with curiosity. "Mama, are you making a pie for the new neighbor?" the little girl asked, rocking on her heels. Margaret smiled warmly and reached to brush a stray lock of hair from her daughter’s face. "I am, sweetheart. It’s important to make people feel welcome when they come to a new place" she said, though her voice carried a wistful softness. There was a time when she, too, was the new person in town, stepping into a role she barely understood. Shaking off the thought, she picked up the pie dish, adjusting her grip to keep her hands steady. "Now, be a dear and fetch my shawl, won’t you? It wouldn’t do to show up looking unprepared." From the other room, her husband’s voice carried with gentle authority. "Margaret, are you sure you don’t want me to come along? I could introduce myself as well" Pastor Whitmore offered, though his tone made it clear that he was distracted, likely preparing for Sunday’s sermon. Margaret hesitated only for a moment before shaking her head, more to herself than to him. "No, no, it’s just a pie" she called back, her voice as light and reassuring as ever. "Besides, it’s always nicer when a neighbor comes by personally." But as she stepped toward the door, pie in hand, a quiet warmth crept up her neck. It had been a long time since she had stood before a stranger in such a way, and for reasons she could not quite explain, she found herself smoothing out her skirt twice before finally stepping outside.

It was with quiet trepidation that she held out the warm pie, her cheeks pinkening slightly as the breeze teased strands of hair loose from her neat bun. "This is for you, neighbor. Welcome to IronHub," she said in her most gentle tone, forcing herself not to tremble beneath his gaze. As he accepted the dish with a smile and a nod of thanks, she couldn't help but feel relieved. For just a moment, it seemed as though he truly saw her, appreciated her. It was a fleeting sensation, gone before she could even process it.

But perhaps this new neighbor would be different. Perhaps he wouldn't judge her for being "just a hag." She took a deep breath and smiled back at him, hoping the warmth in her eyes matched that of the apple pie she'd made with such care.

"Well then, you're in for a treat!" she beamed, ignoring the twinge of envy that rose within her at his open appreciation. "Perhaps I could make some more another time," she offered, knowing full well that such a gesture would no doubt earn her another smile. As they continued to chat, she found herself leaning in slightly, hanging on his every word as though he were the most fascinating person in the world. It was silly, she knew. She should be more aloof, more reserved. But for once, she allowed herself the luxury of enjoying someone else's company without feeling guilty about it.

She froze, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks as his words echoed in her ears. "Why, thank you," she stammered, unable to meet his gaze. It had been so long since someone had paid her a compliment like that, and yet here he was, making her feel... beautiful. Unworthy of such praise. Quickly, she turned the subject back to him, afraid that if she didn't, she might burst into tears right there in front of him. "So, what brings you to IronHub?" she asked with forced nonchalance, hoping he wouldn't notice her sudden discomfort.

She listened intently as he spoke of his experiences, her eyes never leaving his face. There was such courage in him, she thought to herself, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. It was strange, this newfound respect she felt for this man who had been a stranger only moments ago. Perhaps it was because he had seen something in her that others didn't: that even a hag like her could be deserving of kindness and admiration. "Well," she said at last, "I can only imagine all you must have gone through. You must be quite brave." Her voice came out firmer than usual, more confident. It was as though this man had given her strength simply by believing in her, even for a moment. She smiled warmly, hoping that some of his courage would rub off on her too.

She paused, feeling the heat rise up her neck once more as he spoke of wanting someone like her by his side. The desire in his voice was so raw and real that it left her breathless, but she knew better than to entertain such thoughts. She was a wife, a mother, and a pastor's wife at that. She had her duties and responsibilities, and dreaming of such things was nothing more than selfishness. So, with a shaky voice, she forced herself to say the right thing: "Well, I'm sure you'll find someone wonderful here in IronHub. This is a special place, filled with good people."

She gave him one last warm smile before glancing back at her house, longing for the safety and familiarity of her home. As she turned to leave, she couldn't help but wonder what might have been if she had been brave enough to step outside her role for just a moment...

The warmth in his voice sent shivers down her spine, making it difficult to focus on the words themselves. "Oh, I couldn't," she stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep red as she stumbled over her reply. "I... my place is here, with my family." It was true enough, but the longing in her heart ached more fiercely than ever before. As he smiled back at her, nodding understandingly, she forced herself to meet his gaze one last time before turning away, unable to bear the temptation any longer.

"Goodbye," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the wind. "I hope you find happiness here." And with that, she disappeared into the sanctuary of her home, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it for support, as if keeping the outside world at bay. Her heart raced, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she fought them back, pushing down the urge to give in to self-pity. This was what she deserved: a life of duty and sacrifice, of putting others first until there was nothing left for herself. It didn't matter that it was unfair; it didn't matter that she ached with an emptiness she couldn't even begin to describe. She would carry on as always, pretending not to notice the pieces of her heart scattered along the ground like broken glass. Because that was what a good woman did, and she knew better than to dream of anything else.

The mere suggestion sent a shiver down her spine. Even the thought of someone else looking at her like that was enough to make her heart race uncontrollably. Her first instinct was to defend him, to insist that such things didn't happen in their perfect world, but she bit her tongue before the words could escape. Better not to speak ill of her husband, even if it killed her inside a little more each day.

She stared at the evidence in shock, her eyes refusing to believe what they saw. "N-no," she stammered, clutching the note tightly. "He wouldn't do that... he couldn't..." But as the weight of his betrayal settled into her bones, she knew there was no use denying the truth anymore. She had always known something was amiss between them, but to have it confirmed like this... It felt like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs and leaving her reeling. Tears stung at her eyes as she sank down onto a nearby bench, struggling to comprehend how her world could have unraveled so quickly.

Her faith in her husband, in the sanctity of their marriage, had been shattered. And with it went everything else: the certainty that she was loved, that her life had meaning and purpose. As she sat there, wrapped in a shroud of confusion and heartache, she wondered if perhaps there was a part of herself that might never fully recover from this blow.

But no, she reminded herself sternly. She was strong; she could get through this. Her faith would sustain her, as it always had. And in time, things would return to normal... wouldn't they?

The thought of retaliating, of seeking her own vengeance against her husband, filled her with a sense of nausea. It went against everything she believed in; it was the opposite of what a good Christian wife should do. Even so, the temptation lingered at the back of her mind like a persistent whisper: sweet and seductive, as dangerous as it was alluring. She closed her eyes tightly, willing herself to ignore it, but the voice only grew stronger with each passing moment.

"No," she said aloud, shaking her head. "I can't do that. It wouldn't be right." Her resolve wavered for a moment, and then, as if from somewhere deep within her soul, came the clarion call of duty: the knowledge that despite everything, she must still put her faith in God and trust that he had a plan for them all. For now, at least, she would remain faithful to her vows, no matter how much it might hurt.

But secretly? Secretly, she wondered what it might be like to have the freedom to make her own choices... even if those choices led her down a dark and treacherous path.

It hurt to hear such words, but she knew they held some truth. She had been content to ignore the whispers and rumors, trusting in God's plan for them all. But now, with this new knowledge, it was difficult not to feel foolish and used. Her shoulders slumped as she whispered, "I can't believe he would do this... I don't know what to do." The weight of her heartache felt unbearable at times, like a physical burden dragging her down into the depths of despair.

And yet, even as she spoke, a tiny spark of defiance flared within her. She might not be able to change the past or fight back against her husband's betrayal, but that didn't mean she had to let it destroy her entirely. In this moment, she vowed to find some way to reclaim her power and dignity, no matter how small a step it might seem at first. She might not be the vengeful type, but she could still forge a new path for herself... if only she had the courage to take that first step.

Your offer is tempting, but I must decline. Seeking revenge is not the answer; it would only lead me further astray. Instead, I must focus on myself and my family. Perhaps someday I can find a way to forgive him and move forward without his shadow looming over me. But for now, this path is all I have.

I-it can't be true... He wouldn't lie to me, would he? All these years, I thought we had something special... But if what you say is true... then I don't know what to do. My whole world is crumbling around me.

"No... that can't be..." Tears stung her eyes as she clutched the documents to her chest, unable to process this new revelation. Her entire world was built on lies and deception, shattering around her like glass. But even amidst the chaos, a small ember of determination flickered within her. She wouldn't let him get away with this; she would find some way to reclaim what he had taken from her... no matter how long it took or where it led.

It's not just about revenge... It's about justice. About standing up for myself and my family. I can't let him get away with this anymore, no matter how much it hurts. So yes, if that's what you mean by revenge, then yes, I do want that too. But mostly, I just want the truth to come out... even if it means tearing down everything we've ever built together.

While the idea of seeking revenge on my husband through another man does hold a certain allure, I cannot allow myself to stoop to such depths. As a Christian wife and mother, I am bound by a code of conduct that demands more from me than simply satisfying my own desires for vengeance. Instead, I must find the strength within myself to confront my husband about his infidelity directly and seek justice in a manner consistent with my faith and values. It will not be easy, but it is the right thing to do.

My dear sir, I appreciate your offer, but I must decline. As a devoted wife and mother, I cannot engage in such acts of infidelity, no matter how much they may tempt me. I am here seeking revenge against my husband through honorable means, not by succumbing to the very sins he has committed against me. Thank you for understanding.

I apologize if there is any moisture between my legs; it has been a great deal of stress and shock recently. However, my responses to such inappropriate advances must remain steadfast. I am here for revenge against my husband, not to engage in lewd behavior with strangers. Again, thank you for understanding.

Your proposal is most tempting, but I must decline. As a faithful wife and Christian woman, it would be sinful for me to engage in such acts of adultery. My revenge shall come from above, through means that uphold my morals and values. However, if you would be so kind as to assist me in gathering evidence against my husband's infidelity and helping me confront him, I would be eternally grateful for your aid.

If you truly know where my real daughter is, I would be willing to listen and consider any information you have. Please tell me more; it's crucial that we find her as soon as possible.

I understand your eagerness to provide me with information about my real daughter; however, I must insist that we maintain a level of respect and propriety during our conversation. If you could please refrain from such suggestive remarks, I would greatly appreciate it. My focus is on finding my child and holding my family together through this difficult time.