Chapter 3 - The Poisoned Well
"Are you Elena's husband?" the doctor asked.
I practically sprinted across the waiting room.
"Yes, that's me," I said breathlessly.
"Is she okay? What's wrong with her?"
The doctor sighed and looked down at a chart in his hands.
"She is stable now, but it was incredibly close."
"She is suffering from severe dehydration and extreme physical exhaustion."
"But that isn't what caused her to collapse the second time."
I felt a cold knot form in the pit of my stomach.
"Then what did?" I asked.
The doctor met my eyes.
"We ran a full toxicology screen."
"Your wife has dangerous levels of a strong sedative in her bloodstream."
"It's a prescription sleep aid, normally used for severe insomnia."
My mind raced, trying to process the information.
Elena wasn't taking any medication, especially not sleep aids.
She was breastfeeding Leo.
She was terrified of even taking an aspirin.
"That's impossible," I shook my head.
"She doesn't take anything like that."
The doctor looked at me with deep concern.
"Well, someone gave it to her."
"Given her weakened postpartum state, a dose this high could have stopped her heart."
The memory of my mother casually carving the roast chicken flashed into my mind.
I remembered Margaret insisting on making Elena special "recovery tea" all afternoon.
I felt a surge of nausea wash over me.
My own mother had poisoned my wife.
She had intentionally drugged Elena to make her look incompetent.
She wanted Elena to fail so she could swoop in and claim Leo.
"I need to make a phone call," I told the doctor.
I walked over to a quiet corner of the hospital waiting room.
My hands trembled as I unlocked my phone.
I opened the security app for our home's camera system.
I had installed hidden nanny cams in the kitchen and living room just last week.
We hadn't even told Margaret they were there.
I scrolled back through the recorded footage from earlier that afternoon.
I watched the black-and-white video on my small screen.
There was Margaret, standing alone in our kitchen.
She was preparing a cup of tea.
I zoomed in closer.
She reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a small orange pill bottle.
She crushed two white pills on the granite countertop.
Then, she stirred the powder directly into Elena’s mug.
My blood boiled in my veins.
This wasn't just cruel family drama anymore.
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This was a calculated, deliberate crime.
This was attempted murder.
