Every Evening, My Husband Tipped Two Drops From a Small Dark Glass Bottle Into My Tea

“Attorney Lin called my old home phone yesterday morning,” I said, watching his face closely as we walked.

Daniel didn’t flinch or slow his pace.

“Mr.

Lin is a traditionalist.

He probably wanted to verify an old address for the tax rolls.”

“He asked if I still had the original land surveys from thirty years ago,” I said.

“And do you?” he asked, his voice casual and light.

“I told him everything was locked in the file box in our study,” I said.