My Son Drank Poison To Save My Life And Trap His Evil Wife. He Knew It Was Lethal But Did It To Get Evidence. Now She’s Facing 8 Years And I’m Left With The Heartbreaking Truth.

He stared at me for a moment then he checked his watch and stood up. “dad I really need to get back to class we can talk about this another time matthew another time” His voice was firm and final.

“students are waiting” He grabbed his bag and walked out. I sat there alone watching him through the window as Matthew crossed the street heading back toward the school.

Then he stopped, pulled out his phone, and made a call. I couldn’t hear what he was saying but I could see his body language was tense and urgent. One hand was pressed to his forehead like he had a headache, pacing in a tight circle on the sidewalk.

Who was he calling? Oilia, Clare, or someone else I didn’t know about? He talked for maybe 2 minutes then he hung up.

He stood there for a moment staring at the phone and walked back into the school building. I sat in that coffee shop for another 10 minutes staring at my untouched cup. My son was hiding something and that much was clear.

But what was he protecting? Was he protecting me by keeping secrets or gathering evidence on his own? Was he protecting Oilia out of love or denial or some misplaced loyalty?

Was he protecting himself from a truth too terrible to face, from the knowledge that his wife was capable of something unthinkable? I’d come here looking for answers and I’d left with more questions. But one thing was certain: Matthew’s silence was more dangerous than Oilia’s schemes.

Because if my son knew something and wasn’t telling me, then whatever he’d discovered 3 months ago was either too terrible to share or too complicated for me to understand. Either way I was running out of time. Oilia had tried twice: the poisoned drink and the sabotaged ladder.

She would try again. If Matthew knew that, if he’d suspected it for 3 months and still hadn’t warned me, then I couldn’t wait for him to find the courage to speak. I had to act now.

Denise Morgan called me two days later on a Sunday morning. I was in the garage pretending to organize tools when my phone rang. Her voice was tight.

“chris I found something it’s worse than we thought can you come to my office right now” I was there in 20 minutes. Denise had her laptop open and papers spread across her desk.

She didn’t say hello but just gestured for me to sit. “i got access to Oilia’s phone records text message backups there’s someone else involved” My stomach dropped.

She turned the laptop around. On the screen was a text message thread where the contact name was just Christine, no last name. Christine Sinclair, 32 years old, lives in Seattle.

Denise pulled up a driver’s license photo. The woman in the picture looked like Oilia with younger sharper features but was definitely related. “she’s Oilia’s sister”

I stared at the photo. “i didn’t know Oilia had a sister” “most people don’t they’re not close publicly but privately”

Denise slid a stack of printed messages across the desk. “these started six months ago” I picked up the first page.

The earliest messages were from February, 4 months ago. Christine had asked Oilia if she’d talked to that lawyer yet. Oilia said yes and said the lawyer told her that if they could prove I was incapable of managing my own affairs, power would transfer to Matthew and then through Matthew to her.

Christine had asked what would happen if I didn’t cooperate. Oilia’s response made my blood run cold. “there were ways to make someone look incompetent”

My hands started shaking. The next set of messages was from March, 3 months before my party. Christine told Oilia she’d found a source, someone who could get what Oilia needed, but it would cost $800.

Oilia told her to do it and said she’d send the money. A day later Christine confirmed she’d mailed it with “no trail” written. Denise pointed at another document on her desk.

“i traced that $800 oilia sent it via money order christine used it to buy warfare from an online pharmacy in Mexico” She showed me the receipts, the shipping confirmation to Christine’s address in Seattle, and then a second shipping record. Christine had mailed a package to Oilia one week later.

“she bought the poison” I said quietly. “and shipped it to Oilia” “yes”

I flipped to the next page. These messages were from late May, two weeks before my housewarming party. Christine had asked if Oilia received the package.

Oilia said yes and said “This Saturday my party would be the perfect opportunity.” Christine told her to be careful to make it look natural like a heart attack or a stroke, something that fit my age.

Oilia had written back that she knew what she was doing. I couldn’t breathe. The next messages were from June 9th, the day after the party.

Christine had asked what happened with multiple question marks, frantic. Oilia told her something had gone wrong and that Matthew had drunk the poison instead of me. Christine’s response was in all caps disbelief.

She asked if Oilia was kidding and asked if Matthew was okay. Oilia said he was in the hospital and that the doctors were calling it Warfarin poisoning but that he’d recover. Christine called her an idiot and said it was a disaster.

Oilia wrote back that she knew and told Christine to delete everything and to stop texting her. Christine’s last message in that thread was “too late for that”. “they tried to delete it” Denise said “but I recovered everything from cloud backup”

I set the papers down and my hands were shaking too badly to hold them. “they planned it together” Denise nodded. “christine supplied the means oilia executed classic conspiracy”

There was one more set of messages from 3 days ago after the ladder incident. Christine had asked if Oilia had done it and if she’d finished what she started. Oilia said I hadn’t taken the bait and that my neighbor had shown up.

She said she thought I suspected something. Christine told her to stop and said she was going to get caught. But Oilia said she couldn’t stop not now that I was investigating.