“Laura, listen to me,” I said, trying to inject some measure of calm into my voice. “Tell the doctors everything. Tell them about the chocolates. They need to know.”

I hung up the phone, my hands trembling. The room felt colder, as if the very walls were closing in around me. I needed to think, to understand what had happened. Thomas’s reaction had been too extreme for this to be a simple miscommunication. There was something more at play, a dangerous secret hidden beneath the surface.

I grabbed my coat and headed to the car, my mind a whirl of confusion and fear. The drive to the hospital was a blur, a tangle of thoughts and emotions. How could I have been so naive, so trusting? The chocolates had seemed like a gesture of reconciliation from a son who had grown distant. Never had I imagined they could be anything else.

When I arrived at the hospital, the sterile white corridors and the smell of antiseptic did nothing to calm my nerves. I found Laura in the waiting room, her face streaked with tears, her eyes red and raw with worry.