The Lost 2800 Yuan

That winter's cold wind seemed to come earlier and more violently than in previous years. The leaves of the old locust tree in the courtyard have long fallen off, and the bare branches creak in the cold wind, as if telling something ominous. I held my son's cold little hand and stood in the spacious and cold living room of my mother-in-law's house, facing the eyes of a room full of people—those eyes contained scrutiny, suspicion, and a condescending sense of superiority, but they lacked the trust and warmth I longed for. "There was obviously 2,800 yuan in cash in my wallet. It was there just now, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye." My aunt Wang Yawen's voice was clear and sharp, like a carefully polished knife. "During this period, only Xiaoyu entered my room." This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.