Mark’s eyes widened as he took it. “Too degraded by stomach acid. Send it to forensics for analysis.”
Just then, a phone rang – Emma’s special ringtone.
Mark stripped off his gloves and rushed to the hallway, his voice instantly softening.
“Emma? What’s wrong, sweetheart? I’m at work.”
“Tomorrow’s treatment? Of course I’ll be there.”
Emma’s sweet voice carried through the phone: “I know you’re busy with this case. It’s okay if you can’t make it. And please don’t force Alice about the kidney donation. I understand if she doesn’t want to help.”
“I’d never choose a case over you,” Mark answered tenderly. “And don’t worry about Alice. I’ll tie her down and drag her to the hospital myself if I have to. She doesn’t get to choose whether to save your life.”
“You’re too kind,” Emma’s voice dripped with false concern. “I heard she’s claiming to be pregnant? Poor thing must be desperate for attention.”
“Alice isn’t pregnant,” Mark spat. “She’s just trying to avoid helping you. But I won’t let her get away with it.”
Emma sighed softly. “Still, be careful, okay? The killer’s still out there. I worry about everyone’s safety.”
“Just worry about yourself, sweetheart. I don’t care what happens to Alice as long as she doesn’t die before giving you that kidney.”
His casual cruelty twisted my ghostly heart.
They discussed my fate so callously, never knowing my corpse lay just feet away. Never realizing that the kidney Emma needed so desperately was now too destroyed to save her.
My death was orchestrated by Emma, but my husband’s blindness made it possible.
If only he knew the truth – that his precious Emma had arranged my murder, and he was examining his own wife’s body.
But even if he knew, would he care? Or would he just be angry that Emma could no longer get my kidney?
