Part 2: The Toxicology Net
The heavy double doors of the recovery ward swung open with a slow, deliberate click, and two plainclothes state investigators stepped into the room.
Mark's hands dropped from his hair, his breathing turning shallow and frantic as he looked at the gold badges clipped to their tailored jackets.
"Mr. Mitchell, step away from your wife immediately," the lead investigator commanded, his voice completely level and unyielding.
Evelyn tried to step forward, her pearl necklace rattling as she forced her practiced, aristocratic smile back onto her pale face.
"Officers, please, there's been a mistake," Evelyn stammered, her voice pitching higher. "My daughter-in-law is suffering from severe postpartum delusions. She's holding random pills from a kitchen cabinet."
"The only mistake made was yours, Evelyn," I said, handing the clear plastic evidence bag directly to the forensic technician who followed them.
"The laboratory team just finished the rapid assay on the 'special herbal tea' I brought in from our kitchen registry this morning."
"The results confirmed a heavy concentration of amygdalin—cyanide compounds masked by a synthetic almond scent."
The color drained from Mark's face, his body stiffening as the forensic technician carefully sealed the prenatal vitamins into a regulated transport unit.
"We have the remote server archives from your laptop, Mr. Mitchell," the second investigator stated, pulling up a digital slate.
"The IP logs show you accessed the bedroom hidden camera app twenty-three minutes ago from your primary office terminal."
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"We also have the audio recording of your conversation with Chloe Vance regarding the intentional termination of your wife's pregnancy to secure the Hayes estate trust."
Mark looked at his mother, his lips trembling in a silent, desperate plea for a legal loophole, but Evelyn was staring at the floor in absolute, sweating defeat.
