The night had fallen, and the house was quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant rustle of the wind outside. I sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of the past few days pressing down on me.

My mind swirled with questions, anger, and a deep, gnawing ache in my chest. I could still feel the heat of the argument with Rita, the sting of her disapproval lingering like a bad taste in my mouth. But beneath that, something else had begun to grow—a quiet, dangerous thought that threatened to consume me.

I stood up abruptly, pacing back and forth across the room. My...