Chapter 1: Something Was Wrong With the Tea
At 2:17 in the morning, I lay perfectly still beside my husband, Roland, forcing myself to breathe slowly while watching him through barely-opened eyes. He moved through our darkened bedroom wearing latex gloves, carrying a small black bag I’d genuinely never seen before, completely convinced I was entirely unconscious.
Three hours earlier, Roland had handed me my usual cup of chamomile tea. He’d prepared that exact same drink for me every single night, for the previous month straight. But this particular time, once he’d gone to brush his teeth, I’d poured it straight down the bathroom sink, rinsed the cup clean, climbed into bed, and simply pretended to fall asleep.
Watching him now confirmed the suspicion I’d been genuinely terrified to believe. Whatever Roland had been putting into that tea was clearly meant to keep me unconscious, and the sheer confidence with which he moved suggested this genuinely wasn’t the first time he’d done something while I slept.
