I entered my mother-in-law Diane’s mansion with two gifts and one mission: uncover her true nature. Which would she value more—an expensive Gucci bag or a hand-painted stone of her beloved cat, Mittens?

Richard, my husband, and I eloped in a simple ceremony, but Diane dismissed it, saying her son deserved “a wedding people would talk about.” Despite our differences, I wanted to give her a fair chance.

Christmas morning, we arrived at Diane’s immaculate estate. Inside, she greeted us with a thin smile, her eyes assessing every inch of me. The sitting room was a pristine museum of wealth, and Diane’s tone dripped with polite condescension.

When I presented the hand-painted stone, she examined it briefly, saying, “This is… interesting. Cute. Maybe near Mittens’s water fountain.” Her dismissal stung.

Later, I revealed the Gucci bag. Her eyes lit up with unmistakable greed as she inspected it. “Richard, you shouldn’t let her spend your money like this,” she said, ignoring me entirely.

Richard’s response was sharp: “She bought it herself. And both gifts were chosen with care—it’s disappointing which one you value more.”

Diane’s brittle smile said it all. The cat stone sat forgotten, but the Gucci bag she clutched tightly. She failed my test, but now I knew: appearances mattered more to her than sincerity.