Full part: My husband cooked dinner, and right after my son and I ate, we collapsed Pretending to be unconscious, I heard him on the phone saying, “It’s done… soon they will both be gone.”

Daniel stopped beside me. Every muscle in my body wanted to tighten when his fingers closed around my wrist, but I stayed limp as he checked my pulse and lowered my hand carefully back to the floor.

Then he crossed to Noah.

I heard him touch my son’s shoulder.

“This will be easier for everybody,” he said softly.

That almost broke me.

But I didn’t move.

Daniel picked something up from the table and walked away. A moment later, the door to the garage shut.

I opened my eyes.

Noah’s were already open.

I raised one finger to my lips.

“Phones,” he whispered.

Mine was gone. So was his.

Then I noticed my blue dinner plate still sitting on the table with several bites untouched.

I didn’t know what Daniel had put in our food, or whether the plate could prove anything. I only knew I wasn’t leaving it entirely in his control.