Chapter 2: The Woman Across the Street
Part 2 π
I stood in that bedroom for a long time, holding the pillowcase, staring at the bag.
Two dozen white pills.
No label.
No bottle.
Just plastic and silence.
I set it carefully on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed.
My hands were steady.
That surprised me.
By five-thirty, I had made my decision.
I didn't remove the pills.
I didn't call anyone.
I carried the suitcase downstairs exactly as planned and set it by the front door.
She was already in the kitchen when I came down.
Coffee made, hair done, smile ready.
"You're up early," she said.
"Want me to load that into your car?"
"I've got it," I said.
She watched me from the doorway as I carried it out.
I could feel her eyes on my back the whole way to the driveway.
What she didn't know was that I had made one phone call the night before.
Not to my son.
Not to my brother.
To my neighbor, Carol β a retired county sheriff's deputy who had lived across the street for eleven years and still kept her old badge in a kitchen drawer.
Carol's car was already running when I stepped outside.
I loaded my case into her trunk instead of mine.
When I turned back toward the house, my daughter-in-law was still standing in the doorway.
Her smile had changed into something I couldn't quite name.
She reached for her phone.
And that was when Carol stepped out of the car.
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What happened the moment those two women came face to face will stay with me for the rest of my life.
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Click the link below to read the full story β the truth she had hidden went far deeper than anyone knew.
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