I rushed after Daisy, catching up to her just as she reached the sidewalk. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she looked utterly devastated.

“Daisy, wait,” I called out, reaching for her arm gently. “What happened? Why is my wife so upset?”

Daisy hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to confide in me and fearing further conflict. But eventually, she spoke, her voice trembling with emotion.

“I-I don’t know,” she stammered. “Your wife just… she started yelling at me out of nowhere. She accused me of… of something I didn’t do.”

My heart sank as I listened to Daisy’s words. I couldn’t fathom why my wife would treat someone who had been such a vital part of our family for years with such cruelty and disrespect.

“Daisy, I believe you,” I said firmly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “Whatever my wife accused you of, I know it’s not true. You’ve been nothing but amazing to us and our children.”

Daisy looked up at me, gratitude shining in her eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Johnson,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

I nodded, determined to get to the bottom of this. Turning back towards the house, I steeled myself for the confrontation that awaited me. My wife had some explaining to do, and I wasn’t about to let her off the hook for her unjust treatment of Daisy.