At My Dad’s Funeral, My Stepmom Leaned In for a Final Kiss and Saw Him Blink

“I’ll just go change.”

The moment she disappeared down the hallway, I grabbed Dad’s poisoned drink and poured it into a plastic bottle I’d taken from the shelf.

Then, I made him a fresh drink in a clean glass.

When Veronica returned, the drink was sitting exactly where she’d left it. She didn’t suspect a thing.

She took it to Dad and watched him drink it. And she smiled.

What she didn’t know was that her poison never touched him.

The next morning, I drove that bottle straight to a friend who worked at a medical lab.

“Test this,” I said.

“And call me the second you know what’s in it.”

A few hours later, my phone rang.

“Ella, you need to sit down,” my friend said.

“What is it?”

My hands started shaking. “Can you send me the lab report?”

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