My husband told us good night after p0isoning my son and me with a plate of chicken in green sauce, grabbed his phone, and murmured, “It’s done… soon they’ll both be gone.” And I, lying there on the floor, didn’t even dare take a breath.

The door opened. Closed. Silence followed.

I waited, then whispered, “Don’t move yet…”

Ryan’s hand trembled against mine. He was alive. I checked the time. 8:42. I crawled, called 911.

“My husband p0isoned us. My son is alive. So am I. Please hurry.”

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