The Kiss of Death

I give my grandmother a gift she'll never forget on her 60th birthday. My husband and I get into a fight on the highway back to my hometown. He pulls over in the emergency lane and chases me out of the car. He then drives off, leaving me stranded on the highway. He later gets into a major accident on the highway. His car is totaled, and he dies. It's actually not an accident—it's homicide. I'm the murderer. Chapter 1 The police officers rang my doorbell at 5:00 am that morning. I yawned and stepped out in my nightgown to answer the door. "Are you Ivy Lane?" I nodded. "Yes, that's me." The officer leading the group was a woman in her 40s, who presented her badge. I glanced at her name, and it was Eleanor Castillo. "We're from the Everwood Police Department. Your husband, Chester Paget, was involved in a serious car accident last night on the Everwood section of the ring highway. He died at the scene." From the moment I saw the officers at my door, an uneasy weight had been pressing on my chest. The phrase "died at the scene" dropped like a final anchor, grounding all my swirling emotions in an instant. This moment was something I had rehearsed in my mind more times than I could count. "An accident?" Feigning shock, I froze for a moment, murmuring under my breath as I covered my face with both hands. "No… No, that's impossible…" When I lowered my hands, my eyes were bloodshot, and a single, perfectly timed tear rolled down my cheek. "What caused the accident? He was fine last night. How could he just…" Eleanor observed my reaction closely as she replied, "The preliminary investigation suggests that fatigue driving may have been the cause." I gripped the doorframe, my voice breaking as I muttered, "That stretch of highway… the service stations are too far apart, and it was right at dusk when visibility was poor. "Yesterday was my mother-in-law's birthday. He must've been rushing to make it back for dinner. If only we'd left earlier…" "Ms. Lane, we'll need your cooperation. Please come with us—" Chapter 2 Eleanor gestured inside with a slight nod. "You should go and change your clothes." Wiping away my tears, I went to my room and changed into a black dress with a black jacket over it. There are plenty of black clothes in my wardrobe, and black seemed to match the tone of my life over the past few years. When I came out, Eleanor was leading several officers as they examined and photographed my home. Meanwhile, I glanced around blankly, looking dazed and grief-stricken. She pointed to the long row of medicine bottles on top of the dresser. "Whose medication is this?" "The ones on the left are mine. The ones on the right belong to my husband." She leaned in to take a closer look. "Carbamazepine… Do you have bipolar disorder?" "Something like that," I replied weakly. "How long has it been?" "Three years. My mother-in-law's sister is a doctor. Every two or three months, my husband would take me to see her. The medical records are in the drawer below." She pulled out a thick stack of my medical records from the drawer and handed them to her assistant. Meanwhile, my husband's side held various types of vitamins. There was also a small white plastic bottle in the middle with its label torn off. Eleanor, now wearing gloves, unscrewed the cap and found it half-filled with small white pills. "Whose is this?" I glanced at the bottle in her hand. "Mine," I said, pausing before explaining, "Last week, I spilled some makeup remover on it, which ruined the label, so I tore it off." My makeup was stored on the same dresser, close to the row of medicine bottles. The bottle of makeup remover was nearly full and barely used. She placed the entire row of bottles into a clear evidence bag, and the unlabeled white plastic bottle was sealed separately in its own bag. Eleanor scanned the room one more time before turning back to me. "Do you sleep in the guest bedroom?" I nervously tugged at my hair and answered quietly, "Yes, my husband said I snore in my sleep. He usually has to wake up early for work, which can be disruptive. After finishing the photographs, we left the house together. I was then brought to an interrogation room, where cameras were everywhere. Sitting at the table, I let my thoughts wander back to the early days of my relationship with Chester. Overcome with sadness, I rested my head on the table and quietly sobbed. A long time passed before Eleanor returned, and her expression was unusually stern. "Did your husband have trouble sleeping or a habit of taking sleeping pills?" I shook my head while fidgeting nervously with my fingers, "No, he didn't." She forcefully pulled out a chair, slammed the small white bottle onto the table, and then produced a pair of handcuffs. With a sharp click, she fastened them around my wrists. Chapter 3 "From now on, you are the prime suspect in Chester Paget's murder!" Eleanor said as she leaned on the table with both arms, her sharp gaze drilling into me. "The lab results are out. We found sleeping pills in his bloodstream! Aren't these Diazepams yours? Tell me, why did you murder your husband?" I froze for a moment before abruptly standing, my emotions spiraling out of control as I shouted, "That's impossible! This bottle contains Carbamazepine! "I have bipolar disorder—why would there be Diazepam in my house?" Anyone with basic knowledge would know that Diazepam was used to treat depression and insomnia, but it was contraindicated for bipolar patients. Using it could worsen symptoms and lead to severe adverse effects! I reached out to grab the bottle, but Eleanor was faster. She snatched it back before I could touch it. My hand grasped at the air, and I slammed the table in frustration. "You can't just frame me like this! You can check everything—my phone, my computer—they're all at home. I've never purchased Diazepam! Every medication I take is a legitimate prescription from my doctor for treating bipolar disorder!" Eleanor paused, clearly taken aback. Acknowledging my history of mental illness, she softened her tone and poured me a glass of warm water. "Calm down, and don't worry. Everything you've said will be investigated thoroughly. For now, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here and rest." I tilted my head back, drinking most of the water in one gulp. Taking a deep breath, I tried to steady myself, lowering my gaze without saying a word. Eleanor then left the room. Through the glass, I saw her speaking in low tones with someone outside before walking away. It was already the afternoon of the next day when she returned. Eleanor sat across from me, and her expression was unreadable. Even so, there was a hint of sympathy in her eyes as she looked at me. Chapter 4 Eleanor placed some documents on the table and poured me a glass of warm water. She then began saying, "Ivy, I have a few questions to ask you. Don't worry, just answer honestly." The weather was chilly, so I wrapped my hands around the cup. The warmth gradually revived my icy fingers. "What was your relationship with your husband like?" she asked. "He treated me well, but…" I covered my face with my hands, and my eyes welled up with tears again. As his image came to mind, tears streamed through my fingers, and I sobbed uncontrollably. "It was all my fault. I could never meet his expectations. He always said no other wife would be as incompetent as me. I feel like such a failure… "He said a woman should be capable of both hosting in the living room and cooking in the kitchen, but no matter how hard I tried, my cooking never satisfied him. I could barely earn a few thousand a month and was no help to his business…" I stammered. Those were his exact words. Chester was an expert at psychological manipulation. To him, I was a worthless woman, incapable of doing anything right and unwanted by anyone but him. He dismissed every achievement I celebrated and the joy I experienced as insignificant. Meanwhile, he magnified all my flaws endlessly. After we got married, he repeatedly badmouthed my closest friends and convinced me to cut ties with them. I was completely infatuated with him at the time, obeying his every word. I then ended up with no friends. Under his constant manipulation, I fell into deep self-doubt. My temper worsened, and I became a shadow of myself. Eventually, I met Dr. Evelyn Callaghan, my mother-in-law's younger sister, at their family home. She was a well-known psychologist in the area. She diagnosed me with bipolar disorder, prescribed medication, and gave me professional advice and guidance. But despite undergoing repeated treatment, my condition didn't improve—it only got worse. As tears streamed down my face, I confessed, "I have such a bad temper, and now I need medication… I'm such an unfit wife…" Over the five years of our marriage, Chester constantly reminded me of my failures and inadequacies. I deliberately kept detailed records of it all. Eleanor had taken my phone earlier, and I knew she must have read through the messages by now. My sobs grew louder and louder, echoing in the room. Chapter 5 "It's all my fault. If I hadn't left that unlabeled bottle there, he wouldn't have grabbed the wrong one and accidentally taken the sleeping pills… "If I hadn't delayed him with my makeup… If I hadn't lost control of my emotions and argued with him on the road—if I hadn't let him kick me out of the car—maybe this wouldn't have happened…" I said between sobs. The police must have reviewed the dashcam footage repeatedly after the accident, so what I said was nothing but the truth. I pleaded with Eleanor through my tears, "Ms. Castillo, you must find out who switched my medication and who caused my husband's death!" Eleanor scribbled a few notes in her notebook, sighed, and offered me a few comforting words before asking, "What was your relationship like with your mother-in-law?" I froze for a moment, and I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. "My mother-in-law treated me very well. When my parents passed away in an accident six years ago, they left me nothing but a large compensation payout. "Knowing I had no other family, my mother-in-law treated me like her own daughter. She even spent over a million dollars to buy us a marital home in full and gave us an additional 200 grand as a wedding gift to renovate it. She gave me so much respect, and everyone has told me how lucky I was!" Eleanor's sharp instincts caught onto a crucial detail, and she asked bluntly, "The marital home—was it in Chester's name alone?" I nodded. "My mother-in-law said she felt for me and wanted to make sure everything was properly arranged before Chester married me. "She believed women shouldn't worry about trivial matters like money and property—it would only make them age faster." Eleanor raised her eyebrows slightly and let out a faint scoff, clearly unimpressed. Afraid she might question the harmony in our family, I became visibly emotional and quickly added defensively, "They were always sincere in how they treated me! Even though I was never able to have children, they never blamed me. My mother-in-law always treated me like her own daughter! "Three years ago, she even spent tens of thousands of dollars to buy several insurance policies for me!" Eleanor repeated, "Your mother-in-law bought multiple insurance policies under your name?" I nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes! She cared for me deeply and didn't even hesitate to spend that much money!" My emotions grew more intense, and I was unwilling to accept any skepticism. "So, I used the last bit of my savings to buy an insurance policy for both my mother-in-law and Chester to return the favor. I didn't even tell them about it! "In our family, we've always thought about each other's well-being. We've always been close and harmonious!" Since no evidence was found linking me to the purchase of Diazepam or any deliberate poisoning of Chester, Eleanor came personally to remove the handcuffs after 48 hours of questioning. "Ivy, you're free to go," she said. Chapter 6 I lowered my gaze to my hands. On the ring finger of my left hand was a simple band, a ring that had cost me nearly my life to hold onto. My hands were clean but neither slender nor soft. Chester often complained that my cooking lacked variety and flavor, so I spent almost every evening after work in the kitchen. The constant exposure to grease and dishwashing detergent had ruined the skin on my hands long ago. I raised my head, and tears again welled up in my eyes. I asked, "Ms. Castillo, can I see Chester?" Eleanor hesitated for a moment before nodding. "The accident was very severe. Mr. Paget's body had to be stitched back together. You should mentally prepare yourself…" She led me to the forensic room, where the air was thick with the acrid tang of disinfectant, the metallic tang of blood, and a nauseating undercurrent of decay that made my stomach churn. On the autopsy table lay Chester, covered in a white sheet. His form was barely recognizable as human. A blood-stained hand protruded from the sheet. The matching ring he wore that was identical to mine had been removed by the forensic team. It was already cleaned and sealed in an evidence bag nearby. It left a faint pale mark around his finger. With a loud thud, I fell to my knees on the cold floor of the forensic room. I curled up as I broke into uncontrollable sobs. "My parents left me, and now you've left me too… Why?" My cries grew hoarse and desperate. "Chester, you promised to take care of me for a lifetime. Why did you leave me alone? Why did you force me out of the car? Why didn't you take me with you? Why!" Eleanor was clearly distressed by the scene. She came over to help me up, gently patting my back in an attempt to console me. Just then, the sharp clack of high heels echoed from outside the room. A woman in her 50s entered, wearing high heels and heavy makeup. Her tear-streaked face and disheveled hair betrayed her emotional state. The person was my mother-in-law, Florence Callaghan. Beside her stood a young woman in a loose sweater, holding a baby boy no older than a year in her arms. On her left ring finger was a simple band, nearly identical to ours.