Chapter 5 - A House Divided
The drive back from the lab was silent, but it was a silence charged with a terrifying, absolute clarity. There was no more room for doubt. No more excuses about "family drama" or "misunderstandings."
My mother was a attempted murderer.
"What do we do?" Claire asked, her voice cracking as we pulled into our driveway. "Arthur, she’s your mother. Do we... do we call the police?"
"Yes," I said, my voice cold. "We call the police. But first, I need to talk to Ben. He needs to know what he is harboring in his house. Margaret is staying with him tonight."
"He won't believe you," Claire said.
"He will when he sees the lab report," I replied, holding up the folder Mark had printed for us.
Before we went inside, I made a copy of the report on our home scanner and emailed it to myself and to our family lawyer. Then, I called Ben.
It was 3:30 AM. He answered on the first ring, his voice groggy and annoyed. "Arthur? What the hell? Do you know what time it is?"
"Ben, I need you to listen to me very carefully," I said. "I am outside your house. I need you to come downstairs and let me in. Do not wake Mom."
"What? Are you crazy? I'm not letting you in at three in the morning to start another fight—"
"Ben," I interrupted, my tone razor-sharp. "I have a forensic toxicology report from the state lab. The steak was laced with lethal levels of Digoxin. The same drug is coated inside Mom’s pill crusher. If Claire or Ethan had eaten that meat, they would be dead. If you don't open the door in five minutes, the next people knocking on your door will be the state police with an arrest warrant. Your choice."
There was a long, stunned silence on the other end of the line.
"I'm coming down," Ben whispered.
When I arrived at Ben’s house, Claire stayed in the car. I walked up the driveway, the cold night air biting through my jacket. Ben opened the door before I could knock. He looked exhausted, his hair messy, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.
He led me into his study, shutting the door quietly.
"Show me," he demanded.
I placed the folder on his desk. He opened it and began to read. Ben wasn't a scientist, but the report was clear. It had "TOXICOLOGY REPORT: POSITIVE FOR DIGOXIN" printed in bold letters, followed by a breakdown of the lethal dosages found on the meat sample.
Ben’s face went entirely white. He sank into his office chair, staring at the papers.
"This... this can't be," he whispered. "Why? Why would she do this?"
"Because she couldn't control Claire," I said, standing over him. "Because Claire stopped her from taking the kids' trust fund. Because Margaret is a sociopath, Ben. She has been pulling the strings of this family for decades, and we let her do it because it was easier than fighting her."
"But Ethan..." Ben choked out. "She... she served it to Ethan."
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"She didn't care," I said, the bitter truth tasting like ash in my mouth. "When Ethan asked for the steak, she was too proud to stop him because it would have drawn attention to the meat. She risked her own grandson's life to save her own skin."
Ben covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking. The illusion of his perfect family, of his loving, respectable mother, had shattered into a thousand pieces.
