The shoulder that stays too high. The child who flinches before a hand ever gets close. The bruise that never quite matches the story attached to it.

"Maris..." I gasped, letting my knees buckle intentionally, forcing her to bear more of my weight against the hallway wall. "Where... where are we going? Couch... is that way."

"The air is better downstairs, honey," she whispered in my ear, her breath warm against my cheek. "You're burning up. The basement is cool. We’ll sit on the futon while we wait for the paramedics."

"Can't walk... stairs," I groaned, digging the rubber soles of my boots into the floorboards. "Call... the ambulance... please, Maris. I'm dying."

We reached the threshold of the basement door. The concrete cavern below was pitch-black, smelling of damp earth and the old memories of Marcus Vance’s final seconds.

Maris stopped. She turned me around so my back was facing the empty drop of the staircase.

Her face changed.

The mask of the concerned, grieving wife peeled away completely, revealing the hollow, sociopathic vacancy underneath. Her eyes were wide, dark, and utterly devoid of human empathy.

"You really were a sweet one, Gideon," she whispered, her voice conversational, almost tender. "Much sweeter than David. David was loud. He yelled when he started getting dizzy. Julian just cried like a baby in the garage. But you... you were gentle. You were good to Lumi."

The earpiece in my ear crackled faintly with Detective Miller’s breathing. *Hold on, Gideon. Let her state it. Give us the admission.*

"What... what did you give me?" I choked out, letting my head loll back toward the darkness behind me.

"Just a little something from your own hospital," Maris said, smiling warmly. "Succinylcholine. You know how it works, don't you, nurse? It stops the lungs. It stops the voice. But you took it with food, didn't you? That's why it took so long. That's why your heart is still pumping. You always were stubborn."

"Why?" I gasped, forcing a tear down my cheek. "I loved you... I gave you everything."

"You gave me a 1.5-million-dollar accidental death policy," she corrected gently, tapping my chest where the wire was hidden beneath my shirt. "Do you have any idea how expensive private schools by the ocean are? Do you know what it costs to maintain an estate in Maui? Men like you, Gideon... you spend forty years breaking your backs in trauma wards just to retire with bad knees and a pension. I'm just expediting your retirement. You’re providing for us. You should be proud."

"Marcus..." I whispered.

"Marcus was careless," she shrugged, her gloved fingers resting lightly against my throat, feeling my carotid pulse. "He started snooping in my files. He found David’s paperwork. He was going to call the state troopers the next morning. So I gave him his tea, and when he couldn't move his legs anymore, I gave him a little nudge right here."

She touched the center of my chest with two fingers.

"Right where you’re standing."

"You... you monster," I slurred.

"A monster who is about to be a very wealthy, very tragic widow for the fourth time," Maris smiled. "The coroner will find the paralytic in your blood, but your hospital’s inventory will show a missing vial from the trauma ward. They’ll think you were depressed. They’ll think you had a secret addiction. They’ll think you slipped down the stairs while intoxicated. And I will weep at your funeral, Gideon. I’ll wear black lace. I’ll accept everyone's condolences."

She tightened her grip on my shoulders. Her muscles tensed.

"Goodbye, my love."