Corinne stared at my belly. A flash of hatred flickered in her eyes.
About fifteen minutes later, she turned to me.
"Queenie, I made you some soup earlier but forgot to bring it out. I twisted my ankle just now—could you go get it for me?"
I nodded and started to rise, then paused as if remembering something.
"Oh, Corinne—you've taken such good care of us lately. I bought you a piece of jewelry from Goldsmith's. It's on my vanity. Why don't you go grab it?"
Her eyes lit up. But as she headed toward my room, she made sure to remind me: "The soup will get cold if you wait too long. Hurry and bring it out."
I nodded. Once she disappeared into my room, I clutched my stomach.
"Calvin, can you get the soup? My stomach hurts—I need to check on something in the bathroom."
I rushed off before he could respond. Calvin turned and walked into the kitchen.
Through the crack in the bathroom door, I watched Corinne sprint to the kitchen entrance and lock the door behind him.
A few minutes later, a deafening boom erupted from the kitchen.
Neighbors came running.
"What happened?"
"Sounded like a gas explosion!"
Corinne's face was a mask of innocence and false concern.