Arlene

The moment Mirela left my office, I dashed into the bathroom, barely making it to the sink before I lost everything I had been holding in.

My stomach churned violently as I emptied its contents, the overpowering stench of grilled mackerel and garlic sauce still clinging to my senses.

My hands trembled as I gripped the edge of the sink, breathing heavily. I couldn’t shake the thought - Mirela must have suspected something.

There was no other explanation for her choice of food. She had always been cunning, always a step ahead in her relentless games.

Fuck that old witch!

The door burst open behind me, and Matilda hurried...