I looked at him, and a laugh slipped out of me.
He wanted me to confess voluntarily. That way, everything could unfold exactly according to their plan.
I'd rot in prison while they helped themselves to everything I owned — my property, my savings — all while milking the two children for sympathy and convenience.
But not this time. Not in this life.
I stared at Andrew's face, fighting the urge to lunge at him and tear it apart with my bare hands.
But he was still putting on his little show.
"Catherine, why aren't you saying anything?"
Andrew's eyes were rimmed red, his voice thick with feigned emotion. "I know you're suffering, but someone is dead. You can't just deny it!"
The villagers around us were already whispering, pointing fingers.
"She looks so harmless, but she's rotten inside!"
"Poisoning her own family. That woman's beyond saving."
"People like her deserve the death penalty!"
Their words hit me like spit in the face.
Mrs. Finch was still rolling around on the ground wailing. Mr. Finch Sr. raised his cane, ready to strike me.
The whole scene was pure chaos.
I let out a cold laugh and shook Andrew's hand off my arm.
"Confess to what? I didn't kill anyone."
"Still running your mouth?"
Elena's mother stormed over, face flushed with rage.
"You're the one who threw the spatula! You're the one who drove them out in a fit! The second you left, they ate that food and collapsed! If you didn't poison it, then who did?"
"Exactly!"
Mrs. Finch scrambled to her feet, jabbing a finger at me, her face twisted with hatred. "Nobody set foot in that kitchen except you! If there wasn't poison in that food, I'll eat the damn pot!"
I gave her a sidelong glance.
"You're so eager to eat? Go ahead. The pot's right there in the kitchen. Nobody's stopping you."
My words nearly sent her into cardiac arrest.
She pointed at me, sputtering, eyes rolling back so far she almost fainted on the spot.
Andrew rushed to steady his mother, then turned to look at me. Something vicious flickered behind his eyes.
He clenched his jaw, then walked over to my side.
"Catherine, stop making a scene!"
His voice dropped low, meant only for me.
"The situation is not in your favor. Everyone saw you throwing things, losing your temper. That's motive."
"And the kitchen only has your fingerprints on everything..."
"So what?"
I cut him off before he could finish.
Andrew sighed, wearing his best I'm-only-looking-out-for-you expression.
"I'm trying to help you here. Murder carries a life sentence. They could put you in front of a firing squad!"
"But if you admit it was an accident now — say you mixed up rat poison with seasoning, or mistook pesticide for cooking sauce..."
"I've got a buddy at a law firm. He can get the charge reduced to involuntary manslaughter."
The greed in his eyes was impossible to hide now.
"Involuntary manslaughter barely carries any time. With good behavior, you could be out in two or three years!"
"And don't worry. While you're inside, I'll wait for you. I'll take care of everything at home."
"I'll talk to Mom and Dad, smooth things over. I'll raise the kids like they're my own. All you have to do is confess, and this family stays intact!"
He laid it on thick, every word polished and rehearsed.
In my last life, he'd fed me the exact same lines.
Back then, I'd been so terrified I actually believed it was my fault. I'd thrown myself into making amends — paying compensation, working myself to the bone to clear the debt, raising those two children as if they were my own flesh and blood.
And where did that get me?
I looked at Andrew, my gaze steady and still, and asked him one question.
"Andrew, do you think I'm stupid?"
He froze. It took him a long moment before he managed a response.
"What did you just say?"
"You want me to take the fall so you can waltz off with my house and my savings."
"Then you'll bring your supposedly dead sister-in-law back from the grave, and the whole happy family can reunite."
I locked my eyes onto his and didn't blink.
