“You saved us, Em,” he murmured, clinking his heavy crystal glass against mine. “Clean slate. The bank called my office this afternoon to confirm the debt was purchased and settled. I can finally breathe. Tomorrow is day one of the rest of our lives.”
I took a slow sip of the red wine, letting the bitter tannins coat my tongue. I looked directly into his perfectly symmetrical, utterly vacant hazel eyes. He had no idea what “purchased” actually meant. He only heard the word “settled.”
“Yes,” I replied, allowing a faint, tight smile to grace my lips. “Day one.”
He drank deeply, completely oblivious to the temperature dropping in the room. He thought he had successfully drained the well. He didn’t know I had poisoned the water. By morning, the humming would stop. But right now, the night was young, and the illusion was still flawless.
Until I heard the unmistakable, stealthy sound of cardboard scraping against hardwood.
