His brows furrowed as he saw Clare in the kitchen, adding powder to his food. His lips parted in disbelief. What, what is this? Sir, it’s real.
I saw her with my own eyes, Jennifer said, her voice breaking. She’s hurting you. Richard shook his head.
Number Clare loves me. She wouldn’t. Please, Jennifer whispered, listen to this too.
She pressed play on the voice recording. Clare’s voice filled the study, cold and cruel, plotting his death. But love can blind even the wisest.
Richard slammed the phone shut, his face hardened. Jennifer, stop this nonsense. You’re trying to turn me against my wife.
You’re jealous of her. Jennifer’s heart shattered. Tears welled in her eyes.
I swear on my life, I only want to save you. Before Richard could reply, Clare walked into the room. She looked at the phone on the desk, then at Jennifer.
Her eyes flashed, but she quickly covered it with concern. Darling, what’s going on? Richard handed her the phone. Jennifer is accusing you of poisoning me.
Clare gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. What? How could you believe such a lie? She hates me. She wants to destroy us.
She burst into tears, burying her face in his shoulder. Richard wrapped his arm around her. I know, Clare, don’t worry.
He turned to Jennifer, his voice cold. You’ve gone too far. Leave.
Jennifer bowed her head, tears streaming down her cheeks, and walked out. Days turned into weeks. Richard’s condition worsened.
Doctors were puzzled. He grew so weak that he could hardly walk without help. Clare continued to play the role of the caring wife, sitting by his side, feeding him spoonfuls of soup laced with poison.
Jennifer watched helplessly from the shadows, her heart aching. One evening, Richard nearly collapsed in the garden. He was rushed to his bed, gasping for breath.
That night, he lay awake staring at the ceiling. The words of the recordings haunted him, Clare’s cold laughter, Jennifer’s desperate eyes. Doubt filled his heart…
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