Don't Answer Strange Calls At Midnight1
At four in the morning, I received a call from a woman.
She lowered her voice and told me to be careful of my husband.
"Your husband wants to kill you. You should run away!"
My husband, Charlie Jordan, and I grew up together, our marriage arranged by our families. We had always been close.
Although our marriage had had some issues recently, how could he want to kill me?
Was this call a prank, or did it have some hidden agenda?
Before I had time to think, I heard footsteps approaching the door.
My husband, who had gone out in the middle of the night, quietly pushed the door open.
I lay on my side in bed, pretending to be sound asleep, but my mind kept replaying that phone call.
Just as I was thinking, I felt a breath on my face—it was him, close to my face!
Why was Charlie watching me instead of sleeping at this hour?
"Good, she hasn't woken up. This drug is indeed effective..." he murmured, his breath warm against my ear, his tone as gentle and caring as always.
I felt like a poisonous snake had coiled around me, my entire body tense and covered in chills.
Ever since I was discharged from the hospital after the car accident, I hadn't taken any medication.
Why did Charlie drug me?
I didn't sleep a wink that night, my mind filled with memories of the happy life I had before the accident.
I came from a well-off family and had studied piano from a young age, becoming a somewhat famous young pianist in the country.
My husband's company was gradually stabilizing, and business had been good these past few years.
I was busy preparing for a piano concert and getting ready to have a baby with my husband.
But now, everything was ruined!
Because of that car accident three months ago...
Just before my concert, on my way home from work one evening, a car speeding the wrong way crashed into mine.
I lost consciousness on the spot, and when I woke up, my body had suffered various degrees of organ damage.
The driver was also injured and hospitalized, but he was only sentenced to three years, despite driving drunk and causing injury, thanks to the lawyer I had hired.
But my hands were severely damaged, and I could never play the piano again!
"How could this happen... how could this happen!?" I broke down in the hospital when I opened my eyes and saw my hands wrapped in bandages.
For a pianist, losing their hands is worse than losing their life.