PREGNANT AGAIN

"I was talking to your wife, sir. I want to hear from her. Mr. Thompson, you are a little too tense for someone who claims to be innocent."

Charles clenched his fist in anger.

"Do you know who you’re speaking to? I could buy your entire precinct with the flick of a finger. Think carefully next time you speak to me, young man."

He reached up and ran his fingers across the officer’s badge.

"Officer John Harris, rank of patrolman."

He paused, looking at the badge with a mocking smirk.

"A patrolman. How quaint. Do you know I can have you reassigned, discredited, or removed with a single call? The people you answer to—your superiors—answer to me. Do you understand that?"

The officer said nothing but didn’t flinch at the threat.

He turned to me.

"What do you say, ma’am?"

I hesitated.

"My sister Margaret was a quiet girl," I said softly. "And I know she adored Charles. She respected him. I am sure nothing happened between them; someone else must have pressured her to write this. Charles has nothing to do with this. I am sure."

The officer frowned, tapping his pen against the notebook.

"Alright. For now, we’ll classify this as a suicide. There are no security cameras to determine the cause of her death, but the note she left does raise questions. Mr. Thompson, I’d advise you not to leave town. We may need to ask you more questions in the coming few days. A possible DNA test to be carried out."

Charles spread his hands, feigning exasperation.

"How fantastic. While you waste time chasing baseless accusations, my family is grieving."

The officer closed his notebook with a snap.

"If it’s baseless, Mr. Thompson, you’ve got nothing to worry about."

I stood up.

"Officer, I appreciate your work, but please, my sister Margaret is gone, and this is my family. Let us grieve in peace."

The police officer nodded reluctantly.

"We’ll be in touch. My condolences for your loss, Mrs. Thompson. If anything else comes to light, don’t hesitate to call. We will take the body for further tests to confirm it was suicide."

"Thank you, Officer," I replied, smiling dryly.

When the officers finally left with Margaret’s body in the ambulance, Charles sighed sharply.

"That bald brat doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. I’ll have to speak with his police chief."

He muttered bitterly, then turned to me, trying to gauge my mood.

"You handled that well," he said cautiously.

I looked up at him with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

"Of course, darling. What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t?"

"You don’t believe that note, do you? I never had an affair with your sister. I mean, I may be that kind of man, but come on—she’s your sister. You know I can’t do that to you, right?" he asked, his voice quieter than he intended.

"You trust me."

He stared searchingly into my eyes.

My smile widened.

"Of course, honey, I trust you. But for now, let’s focus on honoring my sister’s memory, shall we?"

I said sweetly.

He rubbed his neck.

"Oh... yeah... of course,"he replied tightly, looking very uncomfortable.

His face didn’t hide the fact that he had mixed feelings about this. He felt like he should be happy for my defense, but not when I said it with a small grin on my lips and not a single tear in my eyes.

He knew something wasn’t right.

Charles knows me well enough—I could have a mental breakdown from an emotional movie and cry myself to death.

Now, my beloved sister is lying in front of me in the cold hands of death.

I am not crying—not a single teardrop falls from my eyes.