So, for my birthday, Debbie, my MIL —who honestly can’t stand me—gave me a pair of shoes. I thought it was strange since she never gives me gifts and isn’t exactly warm towards me. The shoes looked nice, and I didn’t want to upset my husband Arthur, so I decided to keep them.

About a week later, I had a business trip to another state and figured I’d wear the shoes. But wandering around the airport, I noticed one shoe felt just a bit too tight. “Strange,” I thought. “Both are the same size, so that can’t be it.”

Then, at security, I had to take them off to put them on the scanner. An officer came up and said, “Ma’am, there’s something inside one of your shoes. Could you lift the insole, please?”

At that point, things felt really odd. When I pulled up the insole, I finally understood why my “thoughtful” MIL gave me these shoes—and why they’d been uncomfortable.

Giving me a serious look, the officer asked “Ma’am, care to explain this?”

“Those aren’t my shoes. I mean, they are, but they were a gift. I didn’t know—” My voice cracked. “Please, I have no idea what that is. I’m supposed to be giving a presentation in Chicago tomorrow morning.”

“We’ll need to test the contents,” he cut me off. “Please wait here.”

I had to wait for twenty minutes, imagining headlines: “Marketing Executive Caught Smuggling Drugs.”

I thought about calling Arthur but couldn’t bear explaining this over the phone.

The senior officer finally arrived to speak to me, “The preliminary tests show no controlled substances in this package,” he said. “But we can’t allow you to take it on your flight, just in case. You understand this could have been a serious situation?”

“Yes, sir.” I fought back tears of relief. “I’m so sorry for the trouble.”

“Be more careful about what you carry through security,” he warned as he released me.

I stared at the package the TSA officer placed into my palm, and wanted to throw it away. However, I hurriedly tossed it into one of the airport lockers before jogging to catch my flight.

I barely made it and spent the entire trip to Chicago with my mind racing: my mother-in-law had deliberately set me up.

After I returned home, I took the bag to a lab for testing immediately. When the results came back, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

I stared at the report. Mugwort. Yarrow. St. John’s Wort. According to my frantic Google searches, these herbs were used in folk magic. They were used for spells meant to drive people away, sever connections, or “protect” someone from unwanted influences.

So, Debbie had tried to use magic to get rid of me.

That evening, I waited until Arthur and I had finished dinner.

“We need to talk about your mother,” I said.

“What’s wrong?”, he replied.

I told him everything about the airport, the herbs, and what I’d discovered about their supposed magical properties.

His face grew darker with each word.

“She’s never wanted me in your life. This proves it. I was almost arrested because of this stunt, Arthur. All because she can’t accept that you chose me.”

Arthur dried his hands slowly. “I knew she was having trouble accepting you, but this…” He shook his head. “This is something else entirely. It’s on a whole other level, and it’s unforgivable.”

“What are we going to do?”

I saw the pain in his eyes when he looked at me. But there was also determination. “I’m going to call her right now. And then I’m going to tell her that until she can admit what she did and genuinely apologize to you, she’s not welcome in our home.”

“Arthur, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.” He took my hand, his grip firm and sure.

“She crossed a line, Jess. She tried to hurt you and made you look like a criminal. I love my mother, but I won’t let her destroy my marriage. You’re my family too, and it’s time she understood that.”

I leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my cheek.

As Arthur reached for his phone, I knew we’d weather this storm together and be stronger for facing it head-on.