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She was a woman in her early 40s with kind eyes and a no-nonsense attitude that immediately put me at ease. I showed her the photographs I’d taken of Jessica’s journal entries and explained the timeline of my mysterious illnesses over the past six months. “Ms.
Williams, I need you to understand that these are very serious allegations,” Detective Martinez said after reviewing the evidence. “If what you’re telling me is accurate, we’re looking at attempted murder charges.”
Detective Martinez took detailed notes as I walked her through every incident I could remember.
The unexplained nausea that started in March. The heart palpitations that sent me to the emergency room in April. The constant fatigue that made me miss work for the first time in my nursing career.
“I want to run these journal entries by our handwriting expert and have the hospital send over your complete toxicology results,” she said. “In the meantime, I need you to stay somewhere safe. “Do you have any friends or relatives you could visit for a few days?”
Before I could answer, Detective Martinez’ phone rang.
The conversation lasted several minutes. I watched her expression grow increasingly serious as she listened to whoever was on the other end. “That was interesting timing,” she said after hanging up.
“The lab just finished analyzing the contents of your insulin vials. “They found multiple hazardous contaminants. “Someone wasn’t trying to scare you.
“Someone was trying to cause maximum damage.”
My stomach lurched. “How much of that did I…?”
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