When Carol smashed my mom’s photo at my wedding reception, she thought she’d won. She stood there smirking, waiting for me to break. But she had no idea what was about to unfold. You see, my mom passed when I was 19, and losing her was the hardest thing I’ve ever faced. But Carol—she’d always been trouble. From the moment she entered our lives, she made it clear: she wanted to erase every trace of my mom.

Carol threw out my mom’s quilts, took down every photo, and mocked me for grieving. Her coldness was suffocating, and I eventually went low contact, only showing up when absolutely necessary. But when I got engaged, I made a promise to myself: my mom would be a part of my wedding, no matter what Carol thought. I put a photo of her at the head table with a small plaque reading, “Forever guiding me.” Carol, of course, couldn’t stand it. And on my big day, she made her move.

She stormed up to the table and, with a smug grin, shoved the photo off the edge, watching it shatter. “She’s dead,” Carol hissed, “I’m the woman of this family now.” But I’d seen Carol’s true nature before. I wasn’t caught off guard. I’d prepared for this moment. And exactly 60 seconds later, the double doors swung open. A detective, two officers, and a leather briefcase entered. “Mrs. Carol,” he said, “You’re under investigation for financial fraud and identity theft.”

What followed was a public unraveling of Carol’s lies. She had been stealing money from my dad’s business account, funding vacations with a man named Chad. As the officers moved to arrest her, I smiled. She tried to pin the blame on me, but I had already been one step ahead. I hired a private investigator, and months of evidence came together. As Carol was led away in handcuffs, my dad picked up my mom’s photo, brushing away the broken glass. “She would’ve been proud of you,” he whispered. That moment meant everything. Carol may have tried to ruin my day, but in the end, it was her game that was over.