Chapter 3 - The Baltimore Connection
Driven by a desperate need for the truth, I followed a lead from a hidden note I found in Mark's office. It led me to a dingy hotel room in Baltimore. I wasn't meeting a friend; I was meeting Malcolm, a man whose name was whispered in the darker parts of our social circle.
Malcolm didn't look like a kingpin; he looked like a man who had seen too much. When I asked him why he bought the sedative, his answer was chilling. "To kill the man who owed me money," he said, staring at me with hollow eyes.
May you like
He didn't need to elaborate. He provided a single name: Mark.
My husband wasn't just using the drug; he was part of a hit squad, or perhaps he was the target himself. The birthday party wasn't a family event gone wrong—it was a failed assassination attempt. Emma had been poisoned because she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, drinking a cup intended for someone else. I looked at Malcolm, realizing that the man I had married was someone I had never truly known. The "hidden plan" was now accelerating, and I was the only one left to stop it before Emma became collateral damage once more.
