Margaret Freeman believed love was worth any sacrifice. At eighteen, she married Daniel Hernandez, a kind man despised by her wealthy father for his lack of status. “You’ll live in a rat-hole,” her father warned, cutting her off from the family fortune. But Margaret chose love over money.

Their tiny apartment was modest but full of warmth. Daniel worked steadily at the post office, refusing higher-paying but unstable jobs, determined to protect Margaret from hardship. They had two children who eventually moved far away.

When Margaret’s father died, he left his fortune to her brother, not her. Daniel was bitter, but Margaret stood firm: she valued their life together more than money. Yet Daniel’s overtime grew excessive, and a faint scent of lilies on him sparked Margaret’s suspicions of infidelity.

Years later, Daniel suffered a heart attack and died. In the quiet that followed, Margaret and their granddaughter Anna packed his things. A suitcase hidden in the garage revealed stacks of cash and a journal. Daniel had worked a secret, grueling night job cleaning sewers—his “lilies” were from the soap, not another woman.