"Ellie, I know you've been through a lot. Let me go pick up something nutritious for you to make up for it."
I stopped him. "I don't want it. Can I just skip it?"
Part of me still clung to one last shred of pathetic hope—that I could reach whatever conscience he had left.
But Zachery was unwavering.
"How are you going to recover if you don't eat? I want you out of here as soon as possible. Be good."
He turned and left.
I closed my eyes.
I'd given him too much credit. Far too much.
If Zachery refused to feel an ounce of remorse, then he couldn't blame me for what came next.
I picked up my phone and dialed the number I'd saved days ago. "Hey. I need a favor..."
It was a long time before Zachery came back.
He handed me the meal. "Here, Ellie. Eat up."
"The university needs me to work late tonight, so I can't stay with you."
I knew he was rushing off to meet Gertrude at some hotel.
I said nothing about it.
"Okay. I'll finish it all. Go ahead."
Then I pulled out a document and handed it to him.
"The doctor says I need to stay for more observation. Can you sign this consent form for me?"
He didn't question it. He scrawled his name in a hurry and left, his steps practically bouncing.
I opened the location-sharing app on my phone.
His dot moved across the map and came to a stop at a couples' hotel.
A smile curved my lips. I dialed 911.
"I'd like to report my husband soliciting a prostitute. The location is..."
The meal went straight into the trash.
I flipped open the document Zachery had just signed—a divorce agreement granting him nothing—and felt genuinely pleased for the first time in days.
Five minutes later, my phone nearly exploded with his calls.
He bombarded me with messages. "Ellie, what the hell are you doing? Why did you report me?"
"I was just dropping something off! You're accusing me of soliciting?!"
I didn't respond. I powered off my phone and set it to silent.
Even if Zachery managed to talk his way out of it at the police station, at least it would ruin his night.
I ordered delivery and ate the first meal in days that didn't make my stomach turn.
Then I slept. Long and deep.
The next morning, Zachery woke me.
His face was ashen, his eyes webbed with red veins. He clearly hadn't slept.
"Ellie, why would you do that to me? How did you even know where I was?"
He was trying to figure out whether I already knew about their plan.
I let out a cold laugh. "Funny—I should be the one asking questions. I pulled up your location to check on you, and imagine my surprise when I saw you at a hotel."
"Did you do something behind my back? Tell me!"
The excuse was airtight.
Zachery bought it. The tension visibly drained from his shoulders.
He slipped right back into that spineless, groveling act. "I really was just dropping something off, babe. Don't misunderstand."
"To make it up to you, I cooked this myself. You must be hungry. Try it."
He set a container of lamb stew in front of me.
Under his eager, expectant gaze, I drank it. Spoonful by spoonful, until it was gone.
But within moments, the room began to tilt. My thoughts blurred at the edges.
Five minutes later, I couldn't hold on any longer.
Everything went black, and I collapsed.
Beside me, Zachery let out a laugh he couldn't contain.
"Playing games with me, Ellie? Not so clever now, are you?"
"You're smart—I'll give you that. You caught on to our plan. But you're still not smart enough."
He raised his hand and slapped me across the face.
"I put five times the dose in that stew. Go ahead and die."
When I still didn't stir, the grin on his face deepened, satisfaction spreading across every feature.
Then he pulled out his phone and typed a message to Gertrude, his fingers quick with excitement:
"Get to the hospital. She's already passed out, and this time she's not waking up!"
"We'll transfer the money from her phone first. I know her bank card PIN. We can deal with the rest of her assets later!"
Before long, Gertrude came rushing in.
A greedy smile spread across her face. "Zachery, she's really gone? This is perfect! Let's move fast before something goes wrong!"
"What's there to worry about?" Zachery's voice dripped with smugness. "I'm her legal husband. Her only next of kin. I say her condition deteriorated and she passed away. Who's going to question that? The cops won't find a thing."
The two of them crowded around the hospital bed, buzzing with excitement.
Zachery reached for my phone.
Gertrude rubbed her hands together, her eyes gleaming as she looked me over, as if she could already see the fortune within her grasp.
They were so drunk on the thrill of getting everything they wanted that they'd lost all sense of their surroundings.
Bang! The door to the hospital room flew open, kicked in from the outside.
The explosive sound made Zachery and Gertrude whip around.
My best friend Vivian stormed in with several uniformed officers at her back, every one of them radiating authority.
She held up a body camera and barked, "Freeze! You're both under arrest!"
