I hung up.
The room went utterly still.
Dozens of eyes stared at me in disbelief. My mother-in-law’s lips trembled.
“How… how is this possible? Evelaine, this has to be a joke.”
Her face drained of color, as if the ground beneath her had given way.
I met their eyes and said evenly,
“Do you think I’m joking?”
The weight in my voice froze the air.
My mother-in-law staggered back as if struck by lightning, nearly collapsing. My sister-in-law caught her, shaking her head.
“No… I don’t believe it. Sister-in-law, my brother was so good to you—there’s no reason for you to kill him!”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached into my bag and drew out a bloodstained knife.
“This,” I said flatly, “is the weapon I used to kill him.”
Gasps and shouts erupted. Guests stepped back in fear, faces draining of color. Only my daughter stood still, staring at me as though I were a stranger.
Snap!
The sound of a slap echoed through the hall. My mother-in-law’s palm burned on my cheek as she screamed,
“Evelaine, you beast! No wonder you insisted on sending Tilly to the dog meat restaurant—you were guilty and afraid!”