Chapter 3: The Shattered Mask
The abusive husband didn't expect her to stop crying the second his back was turned.
The moment Chad stepped out of the kitchen, Eleanor’s terrified expression shattered instantly. The trembling in her hands vanished. Her slumped shoulders straightened. A chilling, victorious smile spread across her flour-dusted face.
She walked over to the warming drawer and pulled out the second steak—the one drowning in the rich, dark, heavily seasoned red-wine reduction sauce. The sauce was a masterpiece of culinary camouflage, completely masking the bitter metallic undertones of the lethal dose of poison mixed into it.
Chloe stepped out from the shadows, her face pale. She looked at Eleanor, then down at the plate. Chloe wasn't as blind as Chad thought. She had seen Eleanor extracting fluids in the guest bathroom weeks ago. She had seen the secret vials.
For a terrifying second, the two women locked eyes. Eleanor held her breath, wondering if the young girl would scream, if she would run to Chad and ruin everything.
Instead, Chloe looked toward the dining room where Chad was loudly complaining about the Wi-Fi speed, then looked back at Eleanor. Silently, Chloe reached onto the counter, grabbed a cloth, and handed it to Eleanor to wipe the flour off her face. Chloe whispered just two words: "Make sure."
Eleanor nodded, a profound wave of relief washing over her. She wiped her face, took a deep breath, and carried the heavy porcelain plate into the dining room.
Chad was sitting at the head of the mahogany table like a king on a throne. Eleanor placed the steak in front of him with a graceful, elegant bow of her head.
"Enjoy your dinner, darling," she said softly.
May you like
Chad didn't even look at her. He grabbed his knife and fork, cut a large, thick piece of the meat, drenched it heavily in the poisoned sauce, and shoved it into his mouth. "Hmph. At least this one isn't overcooked," he mumbled, chewing aggressively. He took another bite. Then another.
Eleanor stood by the buffet table, her arms crossed, watching him consume his own demise.
