She wanted me to leave the house that second.
I nearly did.
But the original deed was still hidden beneath the removable lining of an old storage box in the closet.
Daniel had never found it because the document inside the lockbox was only a certified copy.
I needed to secure the original, preserve the evidence, and stop whatever transfer they planned to force me to sign that morning.
So while Daniel slept downstairs, I removed the deed, sealed it inside a plain envelope, and handed it through the laundry-room window to my friend, who had driven over and parked beyond the view of our security camera.
She was now waiting two streets away.
And she was not waiting alone.
Daniel studied my face, looking for the frightened, foggy woman he had grown accustomed to controlling.
“Who did you send it to?”
“Someone who knows I did not take the pill last night.”
His jaw tightened.
Rachel stood again.
“Daniel, I told you this was too risky.”
He turned on her.
“Be quiet.”
“You said she would never notice.
You said the dose was safe.”
The words left Rachel’s mouth before she realized what she had admitted.
Silence followed.
I did not move.
Neither did Daniel.
Rachel pressed both hands over her lips.
I tapped my phone once.
The screen faced my palm, hiding its display, but the recording continued.
Daniel saw the movement.
“Turn that off.”
“No.”
“This is my house too.
You cannot secretly record private conversations and use them against me.”
“A few minutes ago, you said there was no conversation.”
His nostrils flared.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his own phone.
“I’m calling your doctor.”
“Call him.”
That answer unsettled him.
For weeks, the threat of a doctor had worked on me.
Daniel had made every appointment feel like a hearing in which he was the reliable witness and I was the problem being discussed.
He expected me to panic at the possibility of another evaluation.
Instead, I opened a kitchen drawer and removed the tissue containing the pill.
It was sealed inside a small plastic bag.
Rachel stared at it.
Daniel lowered his phone.
“What is that?”
“The pill you gave me last night.”
“A sleep aid.
You asked for it.”
“Then you won’t mind explaining where it came from, why the bottle never had my name on it, and why you handed it to me instead of letting me see the label.”
His eyes moved toward the back door.
That was the first moment I knew he was afraid.
A knock sounded at the front of the house.
Three firm strikes.
Rachel jerked toward the hallway.
Daniel stayed still.
“Who is that?” he asked.
“The people who received the recording.”
