To her surprise, Emily realized only one thing stood between her and her dream—Henry’s wife.
Knowing Clara Jane was allergic to a certain medication, Emily secretly swapped her pills for a lethal dose of the contraindicated drug.
That night, Clara fell ill. An allergic reaction caused her throat to swell, leading to suffocation.
Given her age and Henry’s request, no autopsy was performed.
Emily had covered her tracks perfectly.
Henry grieved briefly and soon married his housekeeper.
A new life full of possibilities and temptations opened up for Emily.
She spent her days shopping in boutiques, trying to delay the moments she’d have to spend alone with the old man.
She knew all his stories and jokes by heart but endured them, gritting her teeth, for the sake of her future.
Ten years passed in a blur. Emily had grown accustomed to Henry, and whenever he fell asleep, she’d sneak off to her lover—Steven, the driver.
They got along well and seemed to genuinely like each other.
Henry was visibly declining, and Emily eagerly awaited the day she’d inherit his empire.
That day came. Henry died in his sleep, peacefully and without pain.
At the funeral, Emily wailed, dramatically soaking his grave with tears.
The will was to be read the following Tuesday.
That morning, Emily was in high spirits. For the occasion, she wore her finest dress and draped herself in jewelry like a Christmas tree.
The elderly notary cleared his throat and began reading. With each word, Emily bloomed like a tropical flower.
Then, her ears caught a chilling phrase: “…I bequeath everything to the Cancer Research Foundation…”
“What foundation? What are you talking about?” Emily shouted, frantically checking the document herself.
“And for you, Emily Victoria, I have a special message from the late Henry Samuel,” the notary said, handing her a gray envelope.
Inside was a single sheet, covered in small, neat handwriting:
Dear Emily,
Thank you for your stunning beauty.
I bequeath it to my driver, Steven, who served me loyally for so many years.
I know everything about you. I saw the security camera footage.
Thank you for ten years of unclouded happiness.
Be happy!
Your Henry.
Emily clutched her head and sobbed.
Steven, learning his mistress was no longer a wealthy heiress, dumped her. He was no better than her—a greedy opportunist chasing an easy life.
Her son no longer needed her. He’d grown up and barely remembered her.
Even Greg, the septic tank cleaner, had married and was living happily.
And Emily, no longer young or beautiful, was left alone, stranded at life’s broken trough.