Hestood up, closed the door, and asked:
“MA’AM, DOES YOUR HUSBAND KNOW YOU’RE HERE?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Please, tell me. Is he trying to kill me?”
The doctor stared at me silently.
I froze.
That night, Daniel once again brought me my drink.
“Drink it, sweetheart.”
Desperation.
After Daniel fell asleep, I picked up his phone.
Among his messages, I found one that read:
“Tomorrow at 10 a.m. Everything is ready. Please make sure Margaret doesn’t suspect anything.”
The message had been sent by a doctor.
And Daniel’s reply was even more disturbing.
“I’m prepared to do whatever it takes. Even if she hates me afterward.”
That night, I decided to leave.
But the following morning, as I walked downstairs carrying my bag, Daniel was already waiting in the hallway.
He looked at my suitcase, then at my face.
“You found out everything, didn’t you?”
I began trembling.
“Don’t come near me.”
He stopped immediately.
“Margaret, I can explain.”
“You’ve been putting something in my drink
It turned out that the supplement could also interact with one of my regular medications and worsen my drowsiness.
Daniel had already arranged additional medical examinations and repairs to the house’s water system.
His secret phone conversations had been about those arrangements.
“I wanted to fix everything before telling you. I was afraid you’d panic. But by keeping it secret, I only frightened you more.”
For a long time, I said nothing.
Then I asked:
“Why did the doctor write that I shouldn’t suspect anything?”
Daniel gave me a small, sad smile and took out another envelope
adoptive parents had kept.
