Chapter 1 - The Glass in His Hand
“DAD! DON'T DRINK THAT!”
Jake Bennett hit the patio door so hard it rattled in its frame. His father stood beside the grill, one hand holding a sweating glass of iced tea, the other gripping a pair of tongs. The backyard smelled of charcoal, corn, and summer rain. Guests turned toward the sound, startled by the panic in a sixteen-year-old boy's voice.
Daniel blinked. “Jake? What the hell—”
Jake crossed the patio in three strides and knocked the glass from his father's hand. It hit the stone pavers and shattered. Tea splashed across Daniel's shoes. A lemon wedge rolled under the picnic table.
“What are you doing?” Daniel demanded.
Jake pointed at Vanessa, his stepmother, who stood by the patio door with one hand tucked into the pocket of her yellow sundress. “She put something in it. I saw her.”
Vanessa's smile vanished. For half a second, she looked less angry than frightened. Then her face hardened into wounded disbelief.
“That is a disgusting lie,” she said. “I was bringing your father a napkin.”
“You had a dropper.” Jake's voice shook, but he didn't look away. “You put it in the tea and watched him pick it up.”
The guests fell silent. Daniel looked from his son to his wife, trying to fit the words into a day that had begun with burgers and birthday decorations for his sister's twins.
Vanessa let out a sharp laugh. “He's been hostile to me since the day we got married. He wants you to choose him over me.”
Jake glanced up at the small black security camera mounted beneath the eaves. “Then check the camera, Dad.”
Daniel took out his phone. Vanessa moved toward him. “Don't turn this into a circus.”
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But Daniel had already opened the security app. The backyard feed loaded, showing Vanessa standing alone beside the drinks table minutes earlier.
Then she saw what was on the screen—and went pale.
