Husband Met Nanny in Attic, I Cut Power

The day I was discharged after my miscarriage, my husband, Morton, brought home a young nanny named Charlene. "She's from the countryside. Hardworking, doesn't talk much. She's here just to look after you during your recovery." Two weeks into the job, the imported mangosteen had turned into rotten potatoes, and the premium green grapes had become wilted cucumbers. I assumed she was just used to pinching pennies. Then I came across her social media account. Who does this wife think she is, eating mangosteen every single day? She lost the baby and still acts like she's some pampered heiress. Somebody's been too generous with her.