I Worked Three Jobs To Support My Paralyzed Mother-in-law. I Came Home Early And Found Her Dancing While My Husband Filmed Her. How Should I Get Revenge?
A Deadly Prescription
That night around 9:00 p.m., Helen brought a steaming bowl of herbal chicken broth to my room. The intense aroma filled the space.
She said kindly,
“Chloe, dear, drink this. I simmered it for hours. These are all good herbs I had sent over from a special shop in the Catskills. It’s very good for the fetus. Drink it while it’s hot so it works.”
I looked at the dark broth with chunks of chicken and goji berries floating in it. My intuition told me something was wrong. Why so much enthusiasm? Herbs from the Catskills? Where did she get the money and contacts to get them so quickly? She had only been in the city for a few weeks. I remembered the pieces of fingernails and the voodoo doll, Helen’s malicious gaze.
“Yes, thanks, Mom. Just leave it there to cool down a bit, and I’ll drink it in a moment. I’m very full,” I said, trying to sound natural.
Helen hesitated for a moment, looking me up and down, then reluctantly nodded.
“Well, but drink it all. Don’t throw it away, it’s a waste.”
She turned to leave but glanced back at the bowl one more time before closing the door. I waited for her footsteps to fade and locked the door. I took a thick plastic bag, poured the entire broth into it, tied it tightly, and hid it at the bottom of the trash can, camouflaged with some tissues. I didn’t know what was in that broth—whether it was a tonic or a poison—but one thing I was sure of: I would never again allow anything that came from their hands to enter my body. I would go to bed hungry that night, but at least I knew I was safe.
The next morning, while Kevin had already left for work and Helen was absorbed in a soap opera in the living room, I secretly took out the broth sample from the previous night and put it in a small jar, intending to have it analyzed or ask my pharmacist friend to check it. But before leaving the house, my eyes fell on the box of prenatal vitamins on the dresser. It was a gift Kevin had bought me the day before. He said they were imported from Germany, the best on the market, and cost a fortune.
I picked up the box. The packaging looked high quality with its seal and well-printed German letters. But when I opened it, a strange pungent smell hit me, different from the mild scent of the vitamins I had taken before. I took out a few pills. They were a pale yellow color with a somewhat rough surface, not as smooth and uniform as pharmacy pills. And most importantly, they didn’t have the brand name or any code engraved on them.
Suspicion grew in me. I searched online for images of that medication on the manufacturer’s official website. The real pill was dark brown, oval-shaped, and had the brand’s logo clearly engraved. The one I held in my hand looked like a cheap handcrafted tablet; you could even see loose powder.
My blood ran cold. Kevin had switched the pills. He had bought the original box, but the contents were something else. Why? To save a few dollars and give them to his mistress? Or was there a more sinister plan behind these pills? I remembered Sarah’s warning: They might try to harm the baby or your health.
I wrapped a few pills in a tissue and put them in my purse. I decided to take both the broth sample and the pills to my pharmacist friend, Laura. On the way, my heart was burning. The idea that the man I shared my life with was trying to poison me sent shivers down my spine.
At Laura’s pharmacy, after examining the pill with a magnifying glass and doing some quick tests, she frowned gravely.
“Chloe, these are not prenatal vitamins. Based on their appearance and how they dissolve, I suspect it’s some kind of pressed herbal remedy or a low-quality counterfeit drug. It contains ingredients like safflower and motherwort. These herbs have a very strong anti-coagulant effect and are completely contraindicated in pregnancy because they can cause a miscarriage or hemorrhage.”
“A miscarriage?” I stammered, pale as a ghost.
“Yes. If you were actually pregnant and took this, the risk of losing the baby would be very high. Where did your husband buy this?” Laura asked angrily.
I collapsed into a chair, trembling. It turned out they didn’t want me to have this child. They acted happy in front of me, promised me the house, but behind my back, they were giving me pills to terminate the pregnancy. They wanted me to have a spontaneous miscarriage so they wouldn’t look guilty and at the same time have an excuse to blame my delicate health. That way, they would get the inherited house or force me into a divorce with nothing for not being able to have children.
Kevin, how could you be so cruel? Would you be willing to kill your own child if it were real just for greed and selfishness? I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my skin. Luckily, this pregnancy was fake. Luckily, I had been vigilant. Otherwise, I would now be a mother who had lost her child, lying in a pool of blood while ignorantly thanking her executioners.
“Laura, I need you to analyze this thoroughly and the broth sample too. I need conclusive proof,” I said in a firm voice, my eyes burning with anger.
“All right, I’ll send it to the lab immediately, but be very careful. Living with those monsters is too dangerous,” Laura said worriedly.
I nodded and left the pharmacy. The sun was shining, but I felt no warmth. Inside me, there was only one goal: to unmask those demons in sheep’s clothing and make them pay for every pill, for every bowl of poison they had prepared for me.
