“Henry, wait!”
Kemy’s voice cut through the dining room like thunder.
Henry froze with the glass halfway to his lips.
Jane spun around so violently her chair nearly tipped over.
For one second, nobody moved.
Then Jane’s face twisted with rage.
“How dare you interrupt us?” she snapped at the old maid. “Do you know how rude that is?”
But Kemy wasn’t looking at Jane.
She was staring at the glass.
At the tiny white powder still clinging to the bottom.
Henry frowned.
“Iyaabo… what’s wrong?”
Kemy walked forward slowly.
Her hands trembled—not from fear, but from the unbearable weight of what she was about to do.
“Don’t drink that.”
Jane immediately laughed.
A sharp, nervous laugh.
“This woman is crazy,” she said quickly. “Henry, she’s old and confused.”
But Henry noticed something.
Jane wasn’t angry.
She was panicking.
And Henry had built a billion-dollar company by recognizing panic in people who were hiding something.
He lowered the glass slowly.
“Jane,” he said carefully, “what’s in this?”
Jane crossed her arms.
“Vitamin powder. I told you I added supplements because you’ve been stressed.”
Kemy’s eyes darkened.
“Then drink it yourself.”
Silence.
Jane’s face lost color instantly.
Henry looked between the two women.
Then, very calmly, he placed the glass on the table.
“Drink it.”
Jane stepped back.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Drink it,” Henry repeated.
Her breathing changed.
Fast.
Uneven.
And suddenly Kemy remembered another face from long ago.
Fey.
The same nervous eyes.
The same selfish cowardice moments before betrayal.
Jane slammed her hand against the table.
“This is insane! You’re listening to a maid over your fiancée?”
But Henry’s voice had already turned cold.
“What’s in the drink?”
Jane looked trapped now.
Cornered.
Then she made her mistake.
She looked toward her purse.
Just for a second.
But Kemy saw it.
And so did Henry.
Kemy grabbed the purse before Jane could move.
“Give that back!” Jane screamed.
Henry stood up instantly.
Inside the purse was a small prescription bottle with no label.
Henry took it with shaking hands.
“What is this?”
Jane’s mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
Finally:
“It’s not what you think—”
Kemy cut her off.
“I heard your phone call.”
