My heart pounded as I quietly returned to my house, desperate to make sense of what I’d just witnessed. I couldn’t confront Emily without any understanding of the situation, and the thought of burdening Michael with my suspicions before I had any concrete evidence seemed unfair. Nevertheless, the image of those bloodstains haunted me, nagging at my every thought.
Over the next few days, I watched Emily more closely. She was the same charming young woman as ever, laughing with Michael over breakfast, tending lovingly to the small herb garden she had started, and helping out if I ever needed anything. Yet, the pristine facade of her life now seemed precariously thin, and I could sense a hidden tension beneath every smile she offered.
Driven by a mix of concern and fear, I decided to delve deeper. It was as though I was possessed by an insatiable curiosity, one that demanded an answer and refused to let me rest. I discreetly inquired with the neighbors, hoping perhaps someone might have noticed something odd. But all I received were puzzled looks and affirmations of Emily’s sweetness and charm.
