Chapter 8: The Woman Who Wanted Me Gone
The note became the center of the investigation.
Everyone had questions.
But I had one.
Why?
Why did they hate me so much?
I understood jealousy.
I understood cruelty.
But this was different.
This was obsession.
The detective asked me to look at the handwriting.
“Do you recognize it?””
I stared at the paper.
The letters were sharp.
Aggressive.
I shook my head.
“No.””
Daniel looked at the note.
Then suddenly, his face changed.
“What?””
The detective noticed.
“Do you know something?””
Daniel hesitated.
I looked at him.
“Daniel.””
He swallowed.
“I’ve seen this handwriting before.””
My father’s expression hardened.
“Where?””
Daniel looked at the floor.
“In my mother’s old journals.””
The room became silent.
“Journals?”” I asked.
“Yes.””
The detective leaned forward.
“What kind of journals?””
Daniel rubbed his face.
“My mother wrote about people she disliked.””
My stomach tightened.
“People?””
Daniel nodded.
“She wrote about you.””
I felt cold.
“What did she say?””
Daniel looked at me.
“I don’t remember everything.””
“Remember.””
His eyes filled with guilt.
“She said you were a mistake.””
I felt a pain in my chest.
“She wrote that?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Daniel whispered:
“Because she believed I chose you over her.””
That was when everything started making sense.
Margaret didn’t hate me because of money.
Or because of class.
She hated me because Daniel loved me.
Or at least, he once did.
The detective continued investigating.
Within days, the truth became clearer.
Michael had approached Margaret after the breakup.
He fed her lies.
He convinced her that I had ruined his life.
And Margaret believed him because she already wanted a reason to reject me.
The three of them created a story.
A story where I was the villain.
A story where hurting me felt justified.
But there was one missing piece.
The food.
The chemicals.
Who actually put them there?
The detective called me in for another interview.
“We need you to answer carefully.””
I nodded.
“Okay.””
“Who had access to your meals?””
I thought.
“Margaret.””
“Anyone else?””
“Emily sometimes helped.””
“And Daniel?””
I looked down.
“He prepared drinks sometimes.””
The detective paused.
“Did he ever make you food during the time you became sick?””
I felt uneasy.
“Yes.””
The room changed.
“What?””
I looked at the detective.
“What are you thinking?””
He didn’t answer immediately.
That scared me.
Later that evening, Daniel came to see me.
But he wasn’t alone.
The detective was with him.
My heart sank.
“What happened?””
Daniel looked devastated.
The detective spoke.
“We found evidence that changes the situation.””
I looked at Daniel.
“What evidence?””
The detective placed a file on the table.
“Your husband’s fingerprints were found on one of the containers.””
Silence.
I stared at Daniel.
He immediately shook his head.
“No.””
My body went cold.
“I didn’t.””
The detective continued.
“The container was found in your family’s kitchen.””
Daniel stepped forward.
“I touched everything in that kitchen.””
“Yes,” the detective said.
“But this container was hidden.””
Daniel looked at me.
“I swear to you.””
I wanted to believe him.
I wanted to.
But my heart had been broken too many times.
“Did you know about it?””
Daniel’s face fell.
“No.””
The detective watched him carefully.
“Then explain why your fingerprints were on it.””
Daniel looked confused.
“I can’t.””
That answer terrified me.
Because suddenly, I realized something.
Maybe Daniel wasn’t the person who planned everything.
But maybe someone wanted him to look guilty.
The detective’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“What?””
A pause.
Then:
“Are you certain?””
He looked at me.
“We found surveillance footage.””
My heartbeat increased.
“From where?””
“The Carter house.””
The detective put the phone down.
“The footage shows who entered the kitchen the night before you collapsed.””
Everyone waited.
May you like
Then he said:
“And it wasn’t Margaret.””