Chapter 2 - The NoteThe paper trembled between Mark's fingers.
The handwriting was neat.
Almost beautiful.
That made it worse.
Every line documented Sarah's declining health with disturbing precision.
Medication.
Dosage.
Reaction.
Duration.
Another administration.
Another decline.
It wasn't a medical journal.
It was a blueprint.
Martha stood several feet away, completely composed.
"I was trying to help her," she said.
Mark stared at her.
"Help her?"
"Sarah has always been weak."
The word struck him harder than a slap.
"She's your daughter."
Martha's expression barely changed.
"Exactly."
Downstairs, sirens screamed closer.
Lily curled against the wall, hugging her knees.
Mark stepped between Martha and the bedroom.
"You don't move."
Martha raised one eyebrow.
"You are making this emotional."
"My wife is unconscious."
"Because she was already failing."
Mark's hands curled into fists.
"You poisoned her."
"I managed her condition."
"You poisoned her."
Martha's silence was confirmation enough.
Then the paramedics burst through the door.
"Sir, move!"
Mark stepped aside.
The room erupted into controlled chaos.
Medical bags opened.
Monitors came alive.
Sarah's name was shouted repeatedly.
Mark stood against the wall, clutching the note inside his fist.
Lily watched him.
And for the first time in his life, Mark understood something terrifying:
May you like
The woman who had been sitting at their dinner table, holding their daughter, and calling herself family...
had been hiding a murderer behind her smile.
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