During a party celebrating her daughter-in-law’s promotion, her mother-in-law raised a glass and unexpectedly said, “To my daughter-in-law, who achieved this position through short skirts and late-night meetings.” But the mother-in-law couldn’t even imagine that her daughter-in-law had long since learned everything about her past…

The promotion seemed like the beginning of a new life for her. The daughter-in-law returned home beaming—her husband was brimming with pride, but her mother-in-law, as usual, merely pursed her lips.

“Can you imagine,” the daughter-in-law said joyfully, taking off her coat. “I got promoted! I’m now the branch manager. My salary is three times higher. We can finally afford our own apartment…”

Her husband hugged her, picked her up, and twirled her around.
The mother-in-law coldly replied, “And what did you do for this position?”

The mother-in-law was clearly hinting at something untoward.

“And when will you have grandchildren? Or is your career more important?”

The daughter-in-law pressed her lips together. As she had for the past four years of marriage, she remained silent. But something stirred inside—a premonition that her patience was wearing thin.

To celebrate her promotion, she threw a small party. Family, colleagues, and superiors—everyone laughed, congratulated, and raised glasses. There was a light, festive air.

Until her mother-in-law decided to “show off.”

She tapped her glass loudly with a spoon, attracting attention, and said with a feigned smile:

“I want to drink to my beloved daughter-in-law! To the fact that she’s achieved everything… through short skirts and late-night meetings.”

There was laughter—awkward, confused. The daughter-in-law stood slowly, as if afraid her legs would give way. Her husband tugged at her arm:

“Don’t… please…”

But for the first time in her life, she didn’t listen.

She looked her mother-in-law straight in the eye:

“Yes… short skirts. Exactly. I take my mother-in-law as an example; she worked in a brothel in her youth. Isn’t that right? And her former admirers still remember her.”

The table fell silent. Someone dropped a fork.

The mother-in-law flinched and turned pale.

“What are you saying?” she hissed. “Stop it this instant!”

But there was no stopping her daughter-in-law.

She pulled an old, faded photograph from her bag, carefully placed it on the table in front of everyone, and said something that horrified all the guests.

“Do you recognize me? You’re about twenty-five here. A very short skirt. And this man—he was forty then. He’s eighty now, but believe me, he has an excellent memory. He told me a lot about you… too much.”

In the photograph, the mother-in-law was sitting on the man’s lap, his hands on her waist and thigh—incontrovertible, without excuse.

“He was talking about how you worked in a brothel. How you abandoned your child. And how your husband—my father-in-law—knew nothing about it. I wonder why?”

The father-in-law slowly rose from the table. His face turned crimson.

“Is that true?” His voice broke.

The mother-in-law gasped, as if she couldn’t breathe. She shook her head, but the words stuck in her throat.

“You see,” the daughter-in-law said quietly but confidently. “You only seem like a saint. And that’s precisely why you think others achieve success the same way you once did.”

A wave of whispers swept through the room. Some looked away, others, on the contrary, stared at the mother-in-law with wide eyes.

“Nothing to say?” the daughter-in-law asked, looking at her coldly.

The mother-in-law stood there blushing, as if her dress had merged with her skin. The father-in-law looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time.

And the daughter-in-law—for the first time in four years—felt that she had finally said everything she needed to say.