‘No, you’re fine, it’ll only be a minute.’ She headed back into the kitchen and, this time, shut the door quietly behind her. The pasta was still simmering. Using a wooden spoon, she fished a single piece of penne out and, after a quick puff to cool it slightly, she sucked it into her mouth. It was almost done. She didn’t have much time. Opening one of the cupboards again, she stood on her tippy-toes and stretched to reach into the furthest corner. Her fingertips touched the top of the bottle and closed over it to lift it free.

The bottle was small, slim. She held it up to the light. The contents looked so harmless. It could almost be water. Except if you swallowed this, you’d be dead in a couple of hours. It had been difficult to acquire but on the dark net, she had discovered, anything could be bought, and no questions asked. Even something as deadly as strychnine.

Poor Jo. Even when she was much younger, she’d always believed the stories Allison would spin, sometimes merely for their entertainment, sometimes as a cover for deeds she had done… the petty thieving, the rude words scrawled on the smooth surface of their house wall, the disappearance of plants their mother had painstakingly planted the day before. Jo would give a gap-toothed grin and believe anything her big sister told her.

As she’d believed Allison’s story about surprising Peter. She huffed a laugh. Honestly, what a ridiculous tale and Jo had swallowed every single lying word.

Peter… Allison shook her head. They’d told her she was a monster and with what she’d done to her parents and sisters, it wasn’t hard to believe. But she’d never allowed it to take control again. Not till he’d come into her life. All the elegant clothes, the highlights in her hair, the fancy designer bags and shoes had made her into the woman he loved. But the charade had been too difficult to maintain. And she’d been afraid – she could admit it now – that he’d hate the woman she really was. She could live without him, but she couldn’t live without the life he’d shown her, and the home she loved.

So, she’d let the monster out and engineered his death. Someone had told her once that regrets were the currency of fools, and perhaps they were right. Discovering she’d truly loved Peter only after his death had been a shock. Finding out he’d been a lying bastard was devastating. If she’d only known… what a team they could have made together.

Too late, as most things were.