I forced a smile and took out a handkerchief, gently wiping the drool from her chin. “Of course, I’m happy.”
Over the years, she had done nothing but treat me well.
But her family deserved to die.
At the party, every household had its own table, which made my plan even easier.
As I went around making toasts with Gracie, I discreetly slipped a slow-acting poison—hidden under my fingernails—into the wine glasses of Jethro, Tavian, and Faron.
I had learned about this particular poison in chemistry class. It was easy to get in farming communities like ours, where every household kept pesticides and fertilizers.
A small dose wouldn’t kill instantly. First, they’d get sick—diarrhea and vomiting.
Two days later, their organs would start shutting down.
And then, they’d die.
They drank with big, dumb smiles, completely unaware.
Within minutes, they started clutching their stomachs in pain.
The party erupted into chaos.
Everyone thought the food had gone bad and scrambled to call an ambulance.
But the mountain road was too damn remote—an ambulance from the county would take at least two or three hours to get here.