Chapter 4 - The Witness
The next three days became a performance.
David played the grieving husband.
Jessica played the future owner of the house.
Evelyn played the loyal nurse.
And I played the dying wife.
Every person in the house had a role.
Only one of us knew how the story would end.
David became increasingly impatient.
He stopped asking whether I felt better.
He stopped pretending to hope for recovery.
Instead, he asked doctors questions about timing.
How long?
What symptoms?
What would the records say?
Could the condition suddenly worsen?
Could complications occur?
Every question was recorded.
Every conversation was preserved.
And Evelyn documented everything.
One evening, she entered my room after David left.
"He's planning something."
I stared at her.
She nodded.
"I heard him talking to Jessica."
My computer displayed:
WHEN?
"Tonight."
My heart accelerated.
Evelyn checked the hallway.
Then she whispered:
"He wants to increase the dosage."
I stared at her.
That was exactly what we had feared.
David was becoming impatient.
He believed my death was supposed to happen the next day.
Now he wanted to make certain.
Samuel received the information immediately.
Within minutes, he contacted law enforcement.
But there was a complication.
The police needed enough evidence to establish intent.
The existing recordings were powerful.
The toxicology report was strong.
But we needed the final act.
The act David believed would guarantee my death.
Samuel told me the plan.
"We're going to let him think the poison worked."
I stared at the screen.
HOW?
"You're going to stop responding."
I understood.
"Not completely," he said. "We need medical staff to believe you're unconscious."
Then, after the next dose, the doctors would intervene.
Evelyn would administer the emergency treatment.
The poison would be collected.
And law enforcement would arrive before David could destroy the evidence.
It was dangerous.
But it was the only way.
That night, David came into my room carrying dinner.
Jessica wasn't with him.
He looked nervous.
"You've been fighting so hard."
He sat beside me.
"I wish things had been different."
I stared at him.
He looked almost sincere.
Almost.
Then he leaned closer.
"But you have to let go."
My stomach turned.
He opened the container.
Added something.
Stirred.
Then he looked toward the door.
"Tonight."
He whispered it as if speaking to himself.
I watched him approach.
He raised the spoon.
"Come on."
I opened my mouth.
He fed me.
One spoonful.
Then another.
Then another.
The bitterness was overwhelming.
My eyes began to blur.
David watched.
Satisfied.
He placed the bowl aside.
Then he sat beside me.
"You won't have to worry anymore."
He held my hand.
"Neither will I."
He kissed my forehead.
Then he left.
The moment the door closed, Evelyn entered.
She immediately began the emergency procedure.
"Stay with me."
I blinked.
The computer displayed:
I'M HERE.
"I know."
She worked quickly.
Minutes later, alarms sounded.
Nurses rushed into the room.
Doctors followed.
Someone called emergency services.
David appeared in the doorway.
His face was perfect.
Fear.
Shock.
Concern.
"What happened?"
Evelyn looked at him.
"She may have been poisoned."
David froze.
"What?"
The word escaped too quickly.
Too naturally.
A detective later told us that was one of the details they remembered.
David had asked no questions.
He hadn't said, "What do you mean?"
He had said, "What?"
As if he already knew.
Within minutes, police officers arrived.
David tried to block the doorway.
"I'm her husband."
A detective looked at him.
"We need everyone out of the room."
"But—"
"Sir."
David stepped back.
His face had gone pale.
Jessica arrived shortly afterward.
She looked confused.
"What happened?"
David pulled her aside.
"Get out."
"Why?"
"Just go."
She stared at him.
Then she noticed the officers.
Her expression changed.
"You said she was dying."
David whispered:
"She was."
Jessica looked at him.
"And now?"
He didn't answer.
That was when she understood.
Something had gone wrong.
The detectives collected the food.
They collected the bowl.
They collected David's containers.
They collected medication records.
And they collected the cameras.
David watched helplessly.
Then one detective asked:
"Mr. Collins, would you come with us?"
David's voice shook.
"Why?"
"We have questions."
Jessica stepped forward.
"You can't take him."
The detective looked at her.
"Who are you?"
She hesitated.
"I'm... family."
The detective glanced at David.
"Is that true?"
David didn't answer.
Jessica looked at him.
He looked away.
That was the first crack.
The next came when Evelyn gave her statement.
She told detectives about David's behavior.
About the food.
About his questions.
About the medication.
Then Samuel arrived.
He carried a sealed legal file.
"This belongs to my client."
The detective opened it.
Inside were the toxicology results.
The private laboratory findings.
The real will.
The trust documents.
And the complete instructions for Protocol Black.
The detective looked up.
"Does Mr. Collins know about these?"
Samuel smiled coldly.
"No."
That was when David realized something.
He had spent months preparing for my funeral.
But he had never prepared for the possibility that I would survive.
And now his greatest mistake was standing in front of him.
Alive.
Conscious.
Watching.
The detective looked toward my bed.
For the first time, David followed his gaze.
My eyes were open.
I looked directly at him.
His face collapsed.
"That's impossible."
My computer spoke through the speaker.
One sentence.
Clear.
Cold.
"You should have checked whether I could hear you."
David took a step backward.
Jessica covered her mouth.
The room went silent.
Then David whispered:
"You..."
I blinked.
"Yes."
His eyes filled with panic.
And for the first time since the nightmare began, I saw exactly what I had been waiting to see.
Fear.
Not mine.
His.
But there was still one secret left.
Because when the police searched Jessica's belongings, they found something neither David nor I had expected.
A second phone.
And on that phone was a message that changed everything.
"I know what David did to the first wife."
May you like
The message had been sent months earlier.
And it wasn't from me.
