While I was away, my husband and his mother disposed of my cat—yet I never expected my neighbor to join me in seeking retribution

When I came back from a short getaway, I realized my mother-in-law had taken it upon herself to “liberate” me from my cherished cat, Benji. However, thanks to my neighbor’s quick wits and a bit of past dirt, I not only got my beloved pet back but also found the courage to free myself from a worthless husband.

Benji wasn’t just an animal to me. He was my solace, my happiness, my family. I had rescued him as a tiny kitten during one of the darkest times in my life—after my father passed away. My husband, John, never got it. He always called my deep connection with Benji “strange.”

But I never thought he and his mother, Carol, would go this far.

The second I stepped inside after my weekend with my girlfriends, something felt off. The usual sound of little paws moving across the wooden floor was absent.

People often say cats don’t get as attached to their owners as dogs do, but Benji would prove them all wrong. He always greeted me at the door.

But instead of his familiar meows, there was only silence. Worse, I could still catch a faint trace of my mother-in-law’s strong perfume hanging in the air.

I walked deeper into the house and saw John sprawled on the couch, completely engrossed in his phone.

“Where’s Benji?” I asked.

“No clue. Maybe he wandered off,” he said, barely glancing up.

The casual way he said it sent alarm bells ringing in my head. Benji never just “wandered off.” He was strictly an indoor cat, one who got anxious even looking at the backyard through the window.

That’s when I spotted Carol sitting at the dining table, a smug grin on her thin lips as she sipped from her coffee mug.

“Where is my cat?” I demanded, stepping toward her.

Carol set down her cup, deliberately taking her time. “Well…” she said slowly, “I figured I’d take advantage of your little trip to do what needed to be done. You’re finally free of that animal.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were way too attached to that filthy creature to focus on what’s actually important. It’s time to start a family,” she said matter-of-factly. “You should be thanking me.”

A fire—white-hot and all-consuming—rushed through my veins as I moved closer to the table, gripping the back of a chair just to keep myself from doing something I might regret.

“What did you do to him?” My voice was low, steady.

Carol let out an exaggerated sigh, waving a hand as if brushing away an insignificant thought. “Frances, don’t be so dramatic. You’re 32, for heaven’s sake. It’s time to grow up. No more wasting time or money on pet food, toys, or whatever else.”

I turned my attention to John, who still hadn’t moved from the couch. “You let this happen? And you LIED to me?!”

He shrugged again, still fixated on his screen. “I think my mom has a point. It’s time to move on.”

“Move on from what?” My voice cracked. “From the one thing in my life that actually brings me happiness? Unlike this marriage?”

That finally got a reaction. John looked up, his face turning red. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve never supported me—not once. You and your mother make decisions about my life without ever considering what I want.”

Carol abruptly pushed her chair back, the legs scraping against the floor. “We make choices for you because clearly, you don’t know how to make good ones yourself. Just look at you now—throwing a tantrum over a cat instead of focusing on having a family.”

“You mean a family like this one?” I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Where my husband needs his mommy’s approval for everything? Where he lies to me just to keep her happy?”

For a moment, I wanted to tell her the many ways John had deceived her too. But I bit my tongue. First, I needed to get Benji back.

“You’re being hysterical,” Carol scoffed, folding her arms. “This is exactly why we had to take matters into our own hands.”

“Tell me where he is.” I stepped closer, my voice steel. “Right now.”

“Or what?” Carol smirked, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her expression. “What are you going to do about it?”

Before I could answer, movement outside caught my eye. My neighbor Lisa stood in my yard, frantically waving. When our eyes met, she pointed toward her house and mouthed something.

Somehow, I was the only one who noticed her.

“I’ll be right back,” I managed through clenched teeth. “And when I return, I expect to hear exactly where my cat is.”

I stepped outside, the cool spring air brushing against my heated skin. Lisa hurried over, and we met on her lawn. That’s when I noticed her holding her phone.

“I saw your mother-in-law with Benji yesterday,” she said, breathless. “You need to see this.”

She turned her phone screen toward me, and my stomach dropped at the sight. There was Benji—his unmistakable white fur and bright green collar—being cradled by Samantha.

That woman had made my high school years a living nightmare, but ironically, she had rebranded herself as a positivity-spreading lifestyle influencer. Thousands of people adored her online, believing her “transformation.”

But right now, the only thing I cared about was the caption under her post:

“Meet our newest family member! Sometimes the perfect pet just finds you. #blessed #newcatmom”

“And that’s not all,” Lisa added, swiping to a video. “I was watering my plants yesterday morning when I saw your mother-in-law carrying a pet carrier to her car. Something felt off, so I followed her in my truck and filmed it—just in case.”

In the video, Carol’s sedan pulled up in front of a modern townhouse. She stepped out, lifted Benji’s carrier, and walked to the front door, handing him over to Samantha. My mother-in-law grinned as she turned and drove away.

The recording stopped.

“I’m so sorry, Frances,” Lisa said. “I should’ve tried to stop her.”

“No,” I reassured her, gripping her arm. “You did exactly what you should have. This is perfect.”

“You want me to come with you when you confront her?”

I shook my head. “No, just send me the video. I need to do this alone. But thank you—for everything.”

I marched back inside. Carol had moved next to John, whispering something low.

They both looked up as I entered, and I had to fight the urge to do something I might regret. That feeling only intensified when Carol opened her mouth.

“If you’re done with your little scene,” she began.

“Samantha?” I interrupted. “You gave my cat to her?”

Her smirk faltered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Save it. I have video proof of you taking Benji and handing him over to her. Was that the plan? To give my pet to my high school bully? Was this your twisted way of punishing me?”

John stood. “Frances, calm down. Mom was just trying to help.”

“Help who? Her, you, or Samantha’s follower count?”

“This is absurd,” Carol snapped. “John, tell her she’s overreacting.”

I grabbed my car keys. “I’m getting my cat. When I return, I want you both gone.”

An hour later, I walked back in with Benji in my arms.

Carol leapt up. “How dare you—”

“No,” I cut her off. “How dare you. Both of you. I told you to leave.”

“Frances, you’re being unreasonable,” John said.

“I want a divorce.”

Carol gasped. “You ungrateful—”

“I have video evidence of your theft,” I reminded her. “Leave, or I call the police.”

“You can’t do that!” she barked. “This is his house too!”

“It’s not,” I said, locking eyes with John. “Didn’t he tell you? His credit is awful. The mortgage is in my name.”

Carol turned to her son, horrified.

I gave John a knowing smile. “And maybe you should tell her where all her money really goes.”

His face drained of color. “We’re leaving.”

At last, the door clicked shut behind them.

Only Benji’s comforting presence remained, along with the promise of a brighter future.

I pulled out my phone. First, I was calling my lawyer. Then, I was treating Lisa to something special.