Every Evening, My Husband Tipped Two Drops From a Small Dark Glass Bottle Into My Tea
“You see how tired you are?” Daniel said, leaning across the table to pat my forearm.
“You need your rest, Margaret.”
He stood up, took his empty espresso cup to the sink, and turned on the water to wash it clean.
While his back was turned, I reached into my cardigan pocket with my free hand and pulled out the crumpled bank statement I had taken from the trash bin in his study.
I smoothed the heavy cream paper flat against my knee beneath the edge of the table.
Underneath the name Blue Valley Development Corporation, printed in thin black ink, were two names listed as joint account holders: Daniel Vance and Evelyn Reed.
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