Chapter 3: What Was in the Tea?
I couldn't stop staring at my name.
It appeared on the medical request form, on the insurance application, and on the paperwork concerning my mother's house.
Three different documents.
Three forged signatures.
And Marcus was standing across from me, refusing to meet my eyes.
“Tell me this is a mistake,” I whispered.
He exhaled sharply.
“Lauren, you're exhausted. We can discuss all of this tomorrow.””
“Tomorrow?””
I held up the insurance application.
“You put a two-million-dollar policy on my life. You made Vanessa the beneficiary. You tried to take control of my mother's house. And you want me to discuss it tomorrow?””
Marcus reached for my shoulder.
“Please. Just calm down.””
I stepped away.
“Don't touch me.””
Vanessa began gathering her handbag.
Daniel blocked her path.
“Where are you going?””
“Home.””
“Your home?”” Daniel asked.
“The one you emptied last month while telling me you were visiting your sister?””
Her face drained of color.
Marcus turned toward her.
“You told me you hadn't moved anything.””
“Not now!”” Vanessa snapped.
Daniel pulled out his phone.
“I'm afraid now is exactly the right time.””
He showed me a photograph of a storage unit.
Several expensive suitcases stood beside boxes marked with black permanent marker.
One box had my name written on it.
I stared at the screen.
“Why is my name on that?””
Daniel enlarged the photograph.
Inside the open box were copies of my mother's property records, photographs of the house, and several prescription containers.
I recognized the pharmacy labels.
They were from the medication Marcus collected for me.
“What are those?”” I asked.
Marcus stepped forward.
“Give me that phone.””
Daniel moved it out of reach.
“Why? Are you worried she'll recognize something?””
I looked at Marcus.
“What medication?””
He shook his head.
“It's just your supplements. The doctor recommended them.””
“No. The bottles in that picture are prescription containers.””
“Lauren, you're getting confused.””
The words landed harder than a slap.
He'd used that sentence so many times.
Whenever I forgot where I'd left my keys.
Whenever I felt dizzy.
Whenever I asked why I slept through entire mornings.
You're getting confused.
You're overthinking.
You're imagining things.
I suddenly remembered something.
The tea.
Every evening, Marcus prepared a cup of herbal tea and brought it upstairs.
He called it his little bedtime ritual.
He'd insisted it would help me sleep.
At first, I'd thought it was sweet.
Then the headaches began.
The dizziness followed.
Some mornings, I'd wake up with a dry mouth and a heaviness behind my eyes, unable to remember what we'd talked about the night before.
“Marcus,” I said slowly, “what have you been putting in my tea?””
He froze.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“Nothing. It's herbal tea.””
“Then why are you afraid of the bottles?””
“I'm not afraid of anything.””
Daniel turned to Vanessa.
“Tell her.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“Please don't involve me in this.””
“You've been involved from the beginning.””
“Marcus said it was safe!””
The sentence slipped out before she could stop herself.
I felt my knees weaken.
Marcus grabbed her arm.
“Shut your mouth.””
She pulled away.
“You told me it would only make her sleep! You said the doctor knew!””
Silence swallowed the room.
Even the clock on the kitchen wall seemed impossibly loud.
I looked at Marcus.
“Is that true?””
He shook his head.
“She doesn't know what she's talking about.””
Vanessa started crying.
“You promised she would never find out what we put in her drinks!””
My heart hammered against my ribs.
For six months, I'd been drinking something prepared by the man who slept beside me.
I thought about the mornings when I couldn't remember driving to the grocery store.
The afternoons I'd spent lying on the bathroom floor because the room wouldn't stop spinning.
The doctor's appointments Marcus had insisted were necessary.
And the way he'd always smiled when I said I felt better after a full night's sleep.
Daniel gently placed a hand on the back of my chair.
“Lauren, don't drink anything he's prepared again. We need to get you examined independently and preserve everything we've found.””
Marcus stepped toward us.
“This is ridiculous. You're letting a stranger destroy our marriage.””
I looked at him.
“Your mistress isn't a stranger to you.””
He flinched.
For the first time that night, I saw him understand that his usual excuses weren't working.
Daniel took out his phone again.
“There is something else I haven't shown you.””
He opened a photograph.
It had been taken three days earlier outside a medical clinic. A black SUV was parked near the entrance.
Marcus stood beside Vanessa.
And between them was a woman wearing a cream-colored coat.
I recognized her immediately.
My younger sister, Emily.
“What is she doing there?””
Daniel zoomed in.
Emily was handing Marcus a document folder.
I couldn't breathe.
My sister had stood beside me at our wedding. She'd helped me pack when we moved into the house. When our mother died, she'd held my hand through the funeral and promised we'd always look after each other.
I looked at the picture again.
“Why would Emily be with them?””
Daniel didn't answer.
Instead, he passed me a printed text message.
The sender was Emily's number.
The recipient was Marcus.
*Everything is ready. Lauren won't survive what happens on Sunday.*
I read it once.
Then again.
Sunday.
That was two days away.
Marcus lunged for the paper.
“Give me that!””
Daniel caught his wrist.
“Don't.””
I backed away, clutching the photograph.
“Marcus, what happens on Sunday?””
He looked at Vanessa.
Then at Daniel.
For the first time, my husband seemed genuinely terrified.
And then my phone lit up.
A new message appeared from Emily.
*Lauren, don't listen to Daniel. Whatever he tells you, don't go to the police. I need you to trust me.*
May you like
A second message arrived before I could respond.
*And whatever you do, don't open Mom's old safe.*
