During Christmas dinner, my eight-year-old daughter slipped a folded note into my palm. Pretend you’re sick. Leave now. Before I could ask a single question, she doubled over, screaming in pain. I grabbed her and rushed out. Ten minutes later, the truth came out—and I realized she had just saved my life. — Page 4

My phone buzzed.

You forgot your purse. Come home. Your tea is still warm.

I checked my coat. No wallet. No ID.

He wanted me back.

He needed me to drink it.

“Are we going to the police?” Lily whispered.

“Yes… but we need proof.”

And the proof was that tea.

I called Detective Ryan Cole, an old friend.

“Ryan… Daniel is trying to poison me. I’m going back to get the tea.”

“Olivia, do NOT go back alone!”

But I had already made up my mind.

I left Lily locked safely in the car and slipped toward the house.

Through the window, guests laughed and celebrated.

Inside the kitchen, Daniel stood alone… staring at the tea cup.

He checked his watch… then reached for it.

I rushed inside.

“Daniel?”

He jumped but quickly smiled.

“You’re back! Where’s Lily?”

“Asleep in the car,” I lied. “I came for my purse.”

He picked up the cup and handed it toward me.

“Drink your tea first, darling.”

I stepped closer, reaching for the saucer.

But Daniel tightened his grip, eyes turning cold.

“You know, don’t you?” he whispered.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You and that kid ruined everything,” he snarled. “Drink it.”

“No.”