I thought I was losing my hearing until a barefoot four-year-old hid behind the curtain and signed that my fiancée was putting something in my food.

The night of the party, the estate glowed just like it had on the night of our engagement.

Vanessa had outdone herself.

Crystal everywhere.

Expensive flowers.

The best food and wine money could buy.

All our most important guests were there.

My board of directors.

Politicians.

Celebrities.

Even the district attorney, a personal friend who I had told everything to a week earlier.

Vanessa looked stunning in a red gown, her arm linked through mine, smiling for the cameras.

She thought she was hosting a celebration of our love.

She had no idea she was walking into her own public trial.

I pretended to be weak, leaning on her arm, my face pale.

Everyone looked at me with sympathy.

They all knew about my “mysterious illness.”

They all thought I was dying.

Perfect.

During dinner, Vanessa made a toast.

She stood up, glass in hand, and looked at me with what she probably thought was love and devotion in her eyes.

“Everyone here knows how much I love Ethan,” she said, her voice trembling with fake emotion.

“The last few months have been hard. Very hard. But I want you all to know that I will stand by him. Always. No matter what happens. I will love him, and care for him, and cherish every moment we have together. He is my whole world.”

The guests applauded.

Some wiped away tears.

Vanessa looked at me, smiling that perfect, fake smile.

Then I stood up.

I took a deep breath.

And I looked right at her.

“Thank you, Vanessa,” I said, my voice strong and clear, no trace of weakness.

“That was a beautiful speech. Almost as beautiful as the ones you gave to Richard Carter and Thomas Reed before you killed them.”

The room went dead silent.

Vanessa’s smile froze on her face.

“Ethan… what are you talking about? You’re not well. Sit down.”

“I’m very well,” I said, standing up straight, no longer leaning on anything.

“Much better than you think. In fact, I haven’t felt this good in months. Not since I stopped drinking your poisoned tea.”

A murmur went through the crowd.

Vanessa’s face went white.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re delusional. The illness is affecting your mind—”

“Cut the crap, Vanessa.”

I signaled to Marcus, who was standing by the door.

He walked forward and handed me a microphone.

Then he turned on the large screen that had been set up at the end of the room.

On it appeared the test results from David’s lab.

Proof of cisplatin in the tea samples.

Then photos of Richard Carter and Thomas Reed.

Then newspaper clippings about their mysterious deaths.

Then bank records showing the money Vanessa had inherited from them.

Then a video of the supplier confessing to selling her the drugs.

Then copies of the letters she had written bragging about her crimes.

The room erupted in gasps and shocked whispers.

Vanessa backed away from the table, her face twisted with rage and fear.

“You set me up,” she hissed at me.

“You pretended to be sick—”

“Of course I did,” I said.

“Just like you pretended to love me. Just like you pretended to care while you slowly tried to kill me. You thought I was weak. You thought I was dying. You thought you would get away with everything. But you made a mistake. You didn’t count on a little girl named Lily seeing what you were doing. And you didn’t count on me being smart enough to listen to her.”

I looked out at the crowd, at the district attorney who was now standing, at the police officers who had just entered the room.

“Vanessa Hale,” I said, my voice ringing through the silent room.

“You are under arrest for the attempted murder of me, and for the murders of Richard Carter and Thomas Reed. And you are going to spend the rest of your life in prison for what you’ve done.”

Two police officers walked over to her and put handcuffs on her wrists.

She screamed and struggled, yelling that I was lying, that it was all a setup.

But no one believed her.

Not anymore.

As they led her out of the room, she looked back at me, her eyes full of hatred.