abortion, divorce… the whole nine yards.” He
looked panicked. “You mentioned you had another property…?”
I understood. “Too bad, John. I rented it out a couple days ago.” I’d almost said no outright, but after their poisoning plot, I didn’t want to provoke him. “I’ll talk to the tenants tomorrow. They’ll understand. I’ll get the ball rolling on the paperwork for Jessica and Mark.”
Relief washed over John’s face. “You hungry? I’ll fix you something.”
My internal alarms blared. “Sweet and sour
pork sounds amazing,” I said casually, playing
the doting niece.
When he brought it up, I said I was working and
asked him to leave it. I scooped the food into a
Tupperware container. Thirty minutes later, I
was at my friend’s lab.
The next day, he called. “There’s something in
the food, Sarah. Metabolic inhibitor. Long–term
exposure? Bad news. Potentially fatal.”
My hand trembled as I hung up. He’d been
trying to kill me. He’d killed my parents! Blinded
11:38
by his charade, I’d never suspected. Now it was too late; they were cremated. No evidence left. I wanted to call the cops, but I was afraid they wouldn’t have enough to go on. So, I bought a mini–fridge and started ordering in. I saved the food John and Mary brought me. I also got a full medical workup. Thankfully, I’d never been a
fan of Mary’s cooking, so the damage was
minimal, reversible.
Jessica came home after five days. I figured
knowing who owned the house might change
her tune. Wrong. She glared at me, then flipped
out when she saw her things in the smaller
room. Mary rushed upstairs to placate her.
Jessica stormed back down.
“What’s the deal with the room swap?” she
shrieked. “Think you’re hot stuff with your fancy
job? This house was your parents‘! You’re
nothing!”
“I’m something enough to own it. Good luck
finding parents like mine.”
“Enough!” John roared, backhanding Jessica
across the face. “You’re nothing but trouble! Do
<
you want for anything? Disrespect Sarah again,
and get the hell out!”
Jessica, stunned into silence, retreated. John
turned to me, all smiles. “Sarah, I know how you love lobster. I bought a ton. Mary’s making it special, just for you.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll be working in my room.” When Mary came to get me, I told her to bring it up. Had my recent habit of eating in my room made them suspicious? Mary insisted I come downstairs; there was a “weird smell” in my
room.
“Be right there.”
