Where Can I Watch 'See How They Run' About My Son'S Guilt?

I discovered two things after being diagnosed with a brain tumor. I was first on what appeared to be a fake marriage certificate with Julian Fitzgerald. I had raised my son for six years, and he was already aware of it. In fact, he wanted his mother to be someone else. It was then that I realised my life was just a hoax. Seven years of not being in touch with my family, keeping myself solitary and making sacrifices but it was all just plain cruel. So, I did three things. The husband and son who had betrayed me, I went missing. In preparation for our seventh wedding anniversary, I called off the romantic dinner reservation made a month ago. Besides my participation in several health-related group discussions, I also left my son's kindergarten parent groups. These groups were all designed to improve the well-being of my husband and son. My second action was to contact my physician and request a stress evaluation. I requested a special prescription to prevent any complications that might arise during my international travel. The third person I contacted was my older sister, whom she had not been in touch with for seven years. My words were, "To marry in a place where I don't belong to my family is just miserable."

Thalia Jones has been a good and dutiful wife to her husband. She took care of her son like a loving mother. Until she found out her husband had a secret love affair with another woman, her marriage is at the verge of collapsing. Her son doesn't recognize her as his mother anymore. Betrayal stung more than being thrown on spikes. What will happen when she discovers another shocking secret about her marriage now that her husband's brother is involved?

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes, he's my son. My son is dead, Joshua. From now on, there's nothing between us.

I lost my dear son, Henry, to a traffic accident. He had been on his way to one of his part-time jobs. Despite working a lot, my son was still a top scorer on the SATs. “Mom, I don’t want treatment,” he begged with his last breath. “I just want Dad.” In my despair, I called Matthew Foster, my husband, more than one hundred times, but he never answered. We had been married for eighteen years, but one day, he spent all of our savings in order to pay for the treatment of his deceased comrade’s son. That got us into a debt worth one million dollars. To help him pay for it, both Henry I and worked hard to earn money. My son went as far as working five part-time jobs a day! That accident cracked his head open and tore his stomach. He was in urgent need of money for treatment. Since Matthew was not responding, I had to leave Henry’s side to rush to his workplace, where I ended up hearing that he was throwing a party for someone else’s son because he had gotten into a prestigious school. “Mr. Foster gave Zack a seaside mansion, a luxury car, and a limitless black card in hopes that he will succeed in his future studies and have a smooth and healthy life.” As I watched my “poor” husband hug his comrade’s widow and son, I called him for the 101st time. “Henry wants to see you one last time.” “I’m busy right now, Wendy. Be good with Henry and wait a little while longer.” When Matthew hung up impatiently, I put down my phone in silence. I whispered, “Matthew, Henry can no longer wait for you.” At that moment, I decided that I was not going to wait for him anymore either.

My son, Miles Glover, has just been accepted into one of the top colleges in the country when my wife, Teyana Packard, sends him to a plastic surgery hospital for forced gender reassignment surgery. His only crime? Defending me and insulting Teyana's assistant, Hunter Leach, and his daughter, Cassadee Leach. To avenge them, Teyana orders the surgeons to operate without administering anesthesia, leaving Miles to scream and writhe in agony. I drop to my knees and clutch the hem of her clothes desperately. "Teyana, Miles is your son too. If you're resentful about something, take it out on me. Don't hurt our son!" I beg. She looks down at me with icy contempt and kicks me off the platform. "Your precious son bullied an innocent young lady and drove Cassie into depression. Turning him into a woman so he can face the world's scorn is only fair! "Now you can feel the exact same agony Hunter and his daughter felt!" Fighting through the unbearable pain, I make it to the hospital where Miles' surgery is being done, only to see him jump from the building. Right then, I hear another voice drifting down the line. "Let's forget it, Teyana. If Wesley finds out you divorced him ages ago for our sake, he'll just make another scene." My world shatters, and it feels as if my soul has left me. I grab my phone and dial the all-too-familiar number. "As long as you can save my son, I'll agree to anything!"

The notice of my mother's layoff sat on the kitchen table. Rent was due in three days. My younger brother's tutoring fees were already two weeks late. And my little sister, Stephanie, clutched her acceptance letter to the local public arts high school like she'd done something wrong. None of this would be happening if it weren't for me. My illness had taken everything our family had saved. I stayed in my room, leaning against the door, wanting to tell them I'd drop out of treatment—but I couldn't bring myself to open it. "Why did he have to fall sick?" My mother was crying, her voice low and tight, like the words were being forced out of her. "If it were just you both, Stephanie and Jamie, we'd be fine by now." "Mom, please don't say that." My brother and sister held her, barely holding back their own tears. "He's a burden… but he's still my son." Her voice cracked. "I just… I can't do this anymore…" I stepped back and sank into my chair. It wasn't an accusation. It was a verdict.