She Tried to Poison Me novel · Chapter 13 of 24

Chapter 13: One Last Toast

I looked at the glass for a long time.

The moon sat in the wine.

"It's wine, Em," Kit said. "I bought it at the gas station on the way."

"Then drink it."

"I will."

"Not yet."

I took the glass out of her hand.

Her fingers didn't fight me.

I leaned over the edge of the dock and poured it into the lake, slowly, so she could watch every drop go.

Kit watched.

She didn't say a word.

Then she picked the bottle up by the neck and drank from it, three long swallows, and set it down hard on the planks.

"See?" she said. "Just wine."

"I know."

"You still wouldn't have drunk it."

"No."

Her face did something small and terrible, and then it went flat.

"No," she agreed. "You wouldn't. That's the part I didn't plan for."

My phone was in my pocket.

I had pressed record when I sat down on the boards, and it was still running against my hip.

I didn't tell her, and she didn't ask.

"Give me the papers," I said.

She lifted the stack out of the box and held it for a second, the rubber band cutting into her thumb.

Then she put it in my lap.

The top page was lodge stationery, with the Kessling Lodge pine tree printed in green at the corner.

It was handwritten in a slanting, perfect hand I had seen on birthday cards for three years.

Fern's.

It was a schedule.

Two drops a night in the tea, then three, then a week off, then four.

Under that, in the same hand, a line that made my mouth go dry.

"Raise the policy first. Let her be seen unwell by the staff."

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