My mouth went dry, my limbs turned to lead. I looked across the table at Eli. His eyelids were drooping, his small hand rubbing his eyes.

“Mom,” he slurred, his voice small and frightened. “My tummy hurts… and I’m so sleepy.”

That’s when I knew. The look in Jared’s eyes wasn’t concern. It was… observation. He was watching us, waiting. It wasn’t food poisoning. It was poison.

With my last ounce of strength, I lurched from my chair, grabbing Eli’s arm and pulling him down to the floor with me, out of Jared’s line of sight from the kitchen. I collapsed, making it look as real as I could, and listened. I listened as he walked over, stood above us, and delivered our eulogy into his phone.