Chapter 3 - Poison in the Air
The digital words hovered in the dim light of the bedroom like a curse. Savannah stared at the screen, her breathing shallow and erratic.
“Who sent this?” I demanded, my voice dropping to a dangerous, low register.
“I don’t know,” she wept, covering her face with her hands. “Chris, you have to believe me. I have never looked at another man. Your mother—she’s trying to destroy everything we’ve built.”
I wanted to believe her, but the seed of doubt had already been planted. The poison was working. I set the phone down and looked closely at my wife. For three years, Bernice had systematically terrorized her, breaking her spirit, isolating her, and monitoring her every move. If my mother was capable of covering up a murder, fabricating a fake text message to fracture our marriage was effortless by comparison.
“Pack a bag,” I said suddenly.
Savannah looked up, startled. “What?”
May you like
“We are not staying in this apartment tonight. We’re checking into the Carlyle downtown. Tomorrow, I’m hiring a private investigator and a criminal defense attorney.”
By 2:00 a.m., we had checked into a secure suite overlooking the city skyline. Savannah finally fell into an exhausted sleep, but my mind raced through the contents of my father’s letter. If Bernice had killed him, she was a professional predator. And she knew I was coming for her.
