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Clare stopped reading and covered her mouth, fighting a wave of nausea. Beth gently took the pages from her trembling hands before she could continue.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s a literal psychopath,\u201d Beth said flatly, her voice dripping with disgust.<\/p>\n
Sarah nodded once. \u201cShe also studied advanced chemistry in college. She was quietly expelled after missing toxic compounds were reported. She later worked for a regional pharmaceutical supplier with severe inventory irregularities.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rick looked up sharply, his medical instincts kicking in. \u201cWhat kind of irregularities?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPoisons, Doc,\u201d Sarah said grimly. \u201cRestricted, highly toxic compounds. Small amounts taken over time. Easy to miss individually, impossible to explain away collectively.\u201d<\/p>\n
The lights in the hospital room seemed to dim around the edges.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s more,\u201d Sarah said, her voice dropping lower. \u201cTwo former, wealthy romantic partners of Tessa\u2019s died young under circumstances that were ruled natural heart failures at the time. We\u2019re moving to exhume the bodies tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n
Clare stared at her, horrified. \u201cYou think she\u2019s done this before?\u201d<\/p>\n
Sarah met her eyes with absolute certainty. \u201cI think you miraculously survived something that other people didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence fell hard and heavy in the room.<\/p>\n
Rick\u2019s hand found Clare\u2019s, steady and warm on the hospital bedspread. She gripped it with all the strength she had left in her body.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happens now, Detective?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
Sarah\u2019s face set into that clear, unblinking determination that seasoned detectives sometimes wore when the sheer ugliness of a case only sharpened their resolve. \u201cNow, Clare, we make absolutely sure neither of them ever hurts anyone else again.\u201d<\/p>\n
Derek was brought in for a recorded hospital visit the very next morning under the plausible pretense that medical consent forms required his immediate signature, and Clare wanted to talk privately before possible, life-threatening complications worsened.<\/p>\n
It was Sarah\u2019s plan. It was highly risky. It required precise execution. And it was absolutely necessary.<\/p>\n
By then, Derek had already started positioning himself to the police as a manipulated, grieving husband caught in his crazy mistress\u2019s toxic orbit. The emails were damaging, certainly, but defense attorneys loved muddying the water for a jury. A direct, recorded confession would turn the mud into solid concrete.<\/p>\n
Clare insisted on doing it herself.<\/p>\n
Rick hated the idea. He absolutely hated the thought of his granddaughter sitting alone in a room with the monster who had fed poison to her body and called it care. But when he tried to aggressively object, Clare looked at him with Margaret\u2019s exact same impossible, iron stubbornness and said, \u201cHe underestimated me when he thought I\u2019d quietly die. Let him do it one more time.\u201d<\/p>\n
So, Beth used pale powder to make Clare\u2019s face look significantly sicker and weaker than she actually was. The recording wire was taped carefully beneath her hospital gown. Sarah watched intently from the adjacent observation room with two armed officers and a tech monitoring the sound levels. Rick stood nervously in the hallway where he could hear nothing and imagine everything, which turned out to be its own unique form of torture.<\/p>\n
Derek entered the room carrying flowers.<\/p>\n
Flowers.<\/p>\n
Clare would remember that sickeningly hypocritical detail for the rest of her life. He set them down gently by the bed and took her hand, leaning in with perfectly practiced tenderness.<\/p>\n
\u201cClare, sweetheart,\u201d he said, his voice thick with fake emotion. \u201cI\u2019ve been out of my mind with worry. How are you feeling?\u201d<\/p>\n
She let tears gather in her eyes. This part required no acting; the grief for her marriage was real. \u201cThe doctors say there could be severe complications, Derek,\u201d she whispered weakly. \u201cThe poison may have done far more internal damage than they initially thought.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something flashed quickly in his eyes. It wasn’t grief. It was hope. Then it disappeared behind the mask.
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