Patricia collapsed angrily onto the bed.

“I thought marrying Marcus meant luxury and freedom forever,” she hissed. “But those girls come first in everything. His attention. His money. His future. And when they turn eighteen, they inherit everything.”

A slow smile spread across Coraline’s face.

“They won’t live that long.”

Patricia stared at her mother in shock.

“What are you talking about?”

“The plan already started,” Coraline whispered. “Marcus worships you. If something happens to those girls, nobody will suspect us.”

Patricia’s expression slowly twisted into excitement.

“And how exactly do we do it?”

Coraline leaned closer.

“There’s an old healer hidden deep in the Appalachian mountains. She sells a poison with no smell, no taste, and almost no trace.”

Mother and daughter laughed quietly together.

Moments later, Marcus entered the bedroom smiling.

“What’s so funny?”

Instantly Patricia wrapped her arms around him lovingly.

“I was telling Mom how much your daughters mean to me,” she said sweetly. “Those girls have brought so much happiness into my life.”

Marcus kissed her forehead completely unaware he was standing inches away from the people planning to murder his children.

Part 2: The Poison Hidden Inside the Mansion

The following morning, Coraline Langston drove deep into the Appalachian mountains and returned carrying a tiny glass bottle filled with clear liquid that looked harmless beneath the kitchen lights.

But according to the old healer who sold it to her, only a few drops were enough to slowly stop a healthy heart.

That evening, Coraline prepared Claire Whitmore’s favorite dinner herself: homemade chicken pot pie fresh from the oven.

“For the prettiest girl in the house,” she cooed sweetly while placing the poisoned serving in front of Claire.

Across the table, Marcus Whitmore smiled warmly at the scene, believing his daughters were finally building a loving relationship with their new stepmother’s family.

Twenty minutes later, Claire collapsed beside the staircase clutching her stomach in agony.

The mansion exploded into panic.

Doctors rushed to the house. Blood tests were ordered. Specialists examined her repeatedly over the following days while Claire grew weaker and weaker. Her skin turned pale, dark circles formed beneath her eyes, and violent nausea left her barely able to stand.

Yet every test came back inconclusive.

Meanwhile, Patricia and Coraline celebrated privately behind closed doors.

“The poison’s working perfectly,” Patricia whispered excitedly one night.

Coraline smirked coldly.

“Tomorrow we increase the dose.”

Only Chloe Whitmore never left her sister’s side.

“You’re going to get better,” Chloe kept whispering while holding Claire’s hand through endless sleepless nights.

But Claire had already started noticing something terrifying.

Every time Patricia or Coraline brought food into her room, she became violently sick afterward.

One afternoon, Coraline entered carrying a bowl of carefully prepared fruit salad.

“You need strength, sweetheart,” she said warmly.

Claire stared at the bowl silently.

Then pushed it away weakly.

“I don’t trust anything you give me anymore.”

The room went still.

Chloe frowned immediately.

“You have to eat something.”

Claire looked toward her sister with frightened eyes.

“Then you eat it.”