My Fingerprint Was on the Bottle, but I Wasn’t on the Hook Chapter 01

My Fingerprint Was on the Bottle, but I Wasn’t on the Hook Chapter 01

My husband, Derek Foster, called. Said his Grandma forgot her Lisinopril and he needed me to run it over.

“Hurry up. Her pressure’s spiking. You’re the closest one.”

I grabbed the pills and was already in the hallway when text suddenly overlaid my vision.

[Don’t go! Ten minutes after you walk in, Grandma will be dead on the living room floor!]

[Those aren’t her blood pressure pills. Someone swapped them for a lethal dose of poison. Your prints are already on the bottle. Everyone’s going to say you did it.]

[Derek and his mother made sure they’re both out of the house today. They want you standing over her body with no alibi—so they can take everything and buy a house for his pregnant mistress.]

I froze. I stared at the bottle in my hand.

Derek handed it to me last night. Said it was a fresh refill and told me to hang onto it for Grandma.

My prints were already all over it.

Three seconds later I turned around and walked into the nearest CVS.

I set the bottle on the counter. “Can you check this for me? I need to know if this is really Lisinopril.”

***

The pharmacy tech picked it up, turned it over, scanned the label.

“Ma’am, this lot number isn’t pulling up in the system. Where did you get it?”

“I didn’t buy it. Someone in my family gave it to me.”

“If you’re not sure about it, I’d recommend having the contents tested at a hospital pharmacy.”

I stared at that bottle while the popup text burned behind my eyes.

[The Lisinopril was swapped for poison. And your fingerprints are already all over that bottle.]

Lot number dead. Source unknown.

And my prints were already sealed on it since last night.

I wrapped the bottle in a tissue, slid it into my bag, and walked next door to the CVS inside the same plaza.

I bought a brandnew bottle of the exact same brand and dosage.

I didn’t know if the text was real or not, but Grandma came first. That suspicious bottle I was keeping.

When I got to her house in the suburbs of Fairview, the door was unlocked.

I pushed it open. Grandma was slumped on the couch, face pale, sweat beading on her forehead.

“Grandma!”

I rushed over, steadied her, and shook a pill out of the new bottle.

“Here. Take this first.”

She swallowed it with water. Ten minutes passed. The color slowly crept back into her face.

“That’s better… Lord, that one scared me half to death.”

I held her hand and the fear hit me cold in the chest.

If I had used the pills Derek gave me—

I couldn’t finish the thought.

Once she was settled, I texted Derek: [I’m here. Gave Grandma her meds. She’s doing better.]

He replied instantly. [Okay. Drive safe.]

Neutral. Almost considerate. Without the popup warning, I would never have doubted him.

I left Grandma’s house and took a cab straight to Fairview General Hospital.

I went to the pharmacy department and handed over the bottle. “I need a lab analysis on these pills.”

The pharmacist cracked the lid, took one sniff, and frowned. “Wait here. I’ll send it to the lab.”

“How long?”

“Two hours if we rush it.”

I sat in the hallway. Two hours felt like two years.

Derek texted again: [What do you want for dinner? I’ll grab something on my way home.]

I wrote back, [Whatever.]

Two and a half hours later the pharmacist called my name.

His face was tight.

“Ma’am, the tablets look like Lisinopril, but the active ingredient isn’t right. At a high dose this compound causes cardiac arrest.”

“And if an elderly person with hypertension took it?”

“Arrhythmia within ten to twenty minutes. Then cardiac arrest. The external signs mimic a heart attack almost perfectly. Without a targeted toxicology screen, nobody would catch it.”

I sat there, ice spreading through my limbs.

Everything the text overlay showed me was real. That bottle was poison.

My husband was going to use his own grandmother’s life to frame me for murder.