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.

She wasn’t just looking; she was documenting. She sat there for 20 minutes taking notes and taking photos, studying my house like she was appraising it or planning something. Finally she started the engine and drove away.

I stayed crouched behind James’ fence until her taillights disappeared around the corner. I pulled out my phone and called Denise. “mr sullivan”

“there’s someone else involved a woman named Claire Davidson she was at my party oilia introduced her as a friend said she helped plan their wedding but I just saw them meeting in secret and now Claire’s outside my house taking pictures” Denise was quiet for a moment. “describe her”

“early 40s professionallook gray sedan she spent 20 minutes photographing my house from the street” “i’ll add her to the investigation see what I can find on” I hesitated.

“how many people are working with Oilia” “let me dig deeper Mr sullivan i’ll call you soon” She hung up.

I stood there in James’ yard staring at the empty street where Clare’s car had been. It wasn’t just Oilia anymore; she had help. It was a professional, someone careful enough to surveil my property without getting caught except I had caught her.

Another Plan and the Sabotaged Ladder

Two women, one plan, and me standing alone in the growing dark. I was trying to figure out how to protect myself from people who’d already proven they’d cross any line. Two weeks after the incident I got the call I’d been waiting for: Matthew was being discharged.

I drove to the hospital, my mind still churning with everything I’d learned. It was evidence I couldn’t share not yet. The nurse met me in the hallway outside his room with a clipboard full of discharge instructions.

There were medications, follow-up appointments, and ironically, guidelines for monitoring anti-coagulant levels. I signed where she pointed and went inside. Matthew was sitting on the edge of the bed dressed in the clothes I’d brought him the day before.

He looked pale and tired but alive. “ready to go home son” He nodded. “more than ready”

The drive to his house was quiet. Matthew stared out the window not saying much. I kept glancing over at him trying to read his face.

Finally he spoke. “thanks for being there Dad i don’t remember much from that night but I know you were there” My throat tightened. “always son”

When we pulled into the driveway Oilia rushed out before I’d even turned off the engine. “honey” She pulled Matthew’s door open and practically yanked him out of the car.

“careful don’t tire yourself let me help you” She wrapped an arm around his waist, guiding him toward the house like he was made of glass. Grace came running out behind her.

“daddy you’re home” She stopped short when she saw how pale he was and looked up at me. “grandpa is daddy all better”

I crouched down and took her small hand. “he’s getting there sweetheart he just needs rest” Inside I helped Matthew to the bedroom.

He sank onto the bed with a sigh, leaning back against the pillows. For a moment it was just the two of us. “dad,” he said quietly “i keep trying to remember that night what did I drink what happened?”

Every instinct I had screamed at me to tell him. I wanted to pull out my phone and show him the lab report, the credit statements, and the search history to make him see what I’d seen. But I looked at him sitting there pale and exhausted and I knew I couldn’t.

Not yet. What if I was wrong? What if accusing Oilia tore him apart?

“the doctors said it was warfare” I said carefully. “somehow you ingested it they’re still investigating how don’t force yourself to remember just focus on getting your strength back”

Matthew frowned. “but I don’t take any medications how could I have these things happen” “sometimes medical mysteries” I forced a smile. “what matters is you’re okay now”

He stared at me for a long moment like he knew I wasn’t telling him everything then he closed his eyes. “i’m so tired” I said “I’ll go downstairs with Grace.”

In the kitchen I made tea. Oilia moved around me tidying, checking her phone, and putting on a show of domestic normalcy. Then I heard her voice from the next room, low and tense.

The door was cracked open and she thought I was outside with Grace. I froze by the kettle listening. “i told you it went wrong” she hissed into the phone.

“he’s still alive we need another plan” My blood turned to ice. “i’m too risky right now everyone’s watching we wait no I can’t talk here”

The call ended abruptly. A second later Oilia walked back into the kitchen, her face bright and cheerful again. “dad you should stay for dinner i’m making Matthew’s favorite”

I turned forcing my face into something neutral. My heart was pounding so hard I thought she’d hear it. “no thanks” I said. “i should let Matthew rest too many people around isn’t good for recovery”

She tilted her head studying me. “you’re probably right he needs quiet” I hugged Grace goodbye and walked out to my car.

I sat in the driver’s seat with my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. She’d said it clearly: we need another plan. “We” meaning her and whoever she’d been talking to, Clare probably.

And “another plan” meant she hadn’t stopped. Whatever had happened at my party, the poisoned drink, the six pills crushed into whiskey, that was just the first attempt. My son was home recovering, trusting his wife completely, and I was the only one who knew she was planning the next move.

I couldn’t just gather evidence anymore; I had to stop her. Oilia called me 3 days after Matthew came home. Her voice was sweet as honey, the kind of sweet that makes you check for poison.

“dad I feel just terrible about what happened at the party i want to help you make it up to you” I stood in my kitchen with the phone pressed to my ear and said nothing for a moment. I let the silence stretch and waited to see what she’d say next.

“i know you’ve been through so much,” she continued “worrying about Matthew and I feel like I haven’t been there for you the way I should have been.”

Interesting choice of words. “that’s kind of you Ailia,” I said carefully. “matthew mentioned your gutters need cleaning before winter sets in i have a ladder and I’m free this Saturday let me take care of that for you.”

Matthew had mentioned no such thing. I’d cleaned those gutters myself 3 weeks ago with every downspout clear and every seam checked. But I kept my voice neutral.

“that’s very thoughtful” “it’s the least I can do you’ve been so worried about Matthew let me take some burden off you Dad” The word dad had never sounded more calculated.

“saturday works” I said. “what time” “10:00 a.m i’ll bring my ladder from our garage the Good One aluminum extension 24 ft professional grade”

Professional grade. She wanted me to know it was sturdy, reliable, and safe. “sounds good i’ll see you then”

A Trap in the Driveway

I hung up then I stood there in my kitchen for a full minute staring at the phone in my hand. She was planning something. I immediately called James Fletcher.

“james I need a favor” “name it” “Saturday morning can you happen to stop by my house around 10:15 maybe you forgot a tool here last week something like that”

There was a pause. “chris what’s going on” “oilia’s coming over to help clean my gutters and you think” “i don’t know what I think but I have a bad feeling just be there please”