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 every night. I took it to a laboratory. I know what you’ve done.”
