Right after our daughter’s funeral, my husband insisted on quickly throwing out all her things from the kids’ room, but while cleaning, I found her note…
Emily froze. She hadn’t taken the sedative to dinner, hadn’t mentioned a specific medication, just said she’d take something instead of wine.
«Thanks.» She approached, took the glass and pills. «You’re very caring.»
Michael didn’t leave, watching her, waiting for her to take the medicine. Emily brought the pills to her mouth, pretended to swallow, washed down with water. In reality, she tucked them between her gums and cheek, as she had learned in childhood when she didn’t want to take bitter mixtures.
«Good,» Michael nodded, standing up, «now lie down, you need to rest. Tomorrow is a tough day, the movers are coming, need to oversee everything.»
He leaned down, kissed her forehead.
Emily suppressed the urge to recoil; his lips felt icy. «I’ll be up soon,» he said, «just finishing some things downstairs.»
When he left, Emily spit out the pills into a tissue.
Two small white pills, not her usual sedative, which was in capsule form. What were they? She wrapped them in the tissue and hid it in her robe pocket. She’d find out later.
Emily lay in bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. She pretended to sleep when Michael returned. He stood over her for a long time, peering at her face, then carefully checked her pulse on her neck.
Satisfied, he undressed and lay beside her.
Emily lay motionless, regulating her breathing to seem like she was fast asleep. Through half-closed eyelids, she watched as Michael took out his phone, texted someone, then set an alarm and turned off the light.
The night dragged on endlessly. Emily was afraid to move, so as not to give herself away. When Michael’s breathing became even and deep, she carefully turned her head, glanced at the clock.
Three in the morning. If he had planned something, it wasn’t for tonight. Maybe the pills were just sleeping pills, so she’d sleep soundly while he searched the house.
That thought made her tense. What if he found the backpack with documents? What if he already had and was just waiting for the right moment?
Michael suddenly stirred. And Emily froze.
But he only turned to the other side, continuing to sleep. She exhaled in relief.
She needed to act. Tomorrow. Go to the police, show the evidence, but would they believe her or decide it was the ravings of a grief-stricken mother looking for someone to blame in her daughter’s accidental death?
No, the documents alone weren’t enough. She needed more solid evidence, needed Michael to incriminate himself.
Record his confession, make him slip up? A plan began to form in Emily’s head. Risky, dangerous, but she saw no other way out.
Tomorrow, when the movers come, she’d have a chance to slip out of the house.
She needed to meet someone who could help, but who? She went through acquaintances in her mind. Most were mutual friends with Michael; she couldn’t trust them. Parents long dead, brother lives in another state.
Friends, Sarah? No, she’s too emotional, might ruin everything. Who then?
And then Emily remembered Alex. An old family friend, works as a detective.
They hadn’t spoken in several years, but they used to be close. He’d help, he had to help.
Decision made. Tomorrow she’d meet Alex, show the documents, and for now, she needed to sleep at least a little to keep a clear mind.
The morning started with a phone call. Michael was already awake, sitting in the kitchen with his laptop.
Emily came down, feigning sleepiness and slight disorientation, like someone who had taken strong sleeping pills.
«Good morning!» Michael smiled at her. «How did you sleep?»
«Very soundly.» Emily rubbed her eyes, «I don’t even remember falling asleep. What were those pills?»
«Regular sedative.» He shrugged. «You were just very exhausted, so it hit harder.»
Emily nodded, pouring herself coffee. «What time are the movers coming?»
«At eleven,» Michael looked at the clock. «We have two more hours to finish packing.»
Emily took a sip of coffee, gathering her thoughts. «You know, I was thinking. I need to go to Mom’s today. She’s really upset. She called yesterday while you were at the lawyer’s.»
This was a lie. Emily’s mother had died three years ago, but Michael often mixed up details about her family. It was a chance to test his reaction.
Michael frowned. «To Mom’s? But you said she was at the nursing home until the end of the month.»
Emily tensed inwardly. He remembered that detail. Her fabrication failed.
«Yes, exactly,» she tried to correct herself. «I meant call her. And also stop by work, pick up documents. They asked me to sign some papers for the project.»
Michael looked at her closely. «I can drive you?»..
