For three years, I had sponsored Caleb, a student from a disadvantaged background. Today, he had finally graduated from college. He stood at my doorstep, his arms laden with bags of gifts from his hometown, his sun-weathered face beaming with simple gratitude. "Jenna, I wouldn't be where I am today without you. Please, you have to accept these small tokens of my appreciation." I smiled warmly and invited him in, a genuine happiness blooming in my chest. But as I turned to get him a glass of water, a cold, insidious voice echoed in my mind. This apartment is in a prime location. If I kill her, it'll all be mine. My hand trembled, and the glass I was holding slipped, shattering on the floor. 1 I took a deep breath, swept up the broken glass, and poured a fresh glass of water. Composing myself, I walked back into the living room with a practiced smile. "Here you go, Caleb. Have some water." "Thank you, Jenna." He took the glass, his eyes still radiating that same rustic innocence. Her parents' old place is worth a fortune, too. I remember her mentioning it was in a historic district downtown, a prime school zone. Tomorrow, I'll go 'visit' them, under the guise of thanking them for their support. Once her entire family has died in 'accidents,' I'll be the master of this house. Then I'll use her identity to take out loans and figure out a way to drain her company's funds. Perfect. This young man with the guileless smile was sipping his water, his eyes filled with what looked like a hopeful gaze toward the future. My back was instantly drenched in a cold sweat. I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles turned white, just barely managing to stifle a scream. It wasn't a hallucination. This boy, whom I had sponsored for three years, whom I had treated like a younger brother, was methodically listing off a venomous, step-by-step plan to murder my entire family. A viper I'd welcomed into my home, now poised to strike and steal everything. Run! Call the police! That was the first thought that screamed through my mind. But I couldn't. There were no security cameras inside my apartment, and there had been no physical altercation between us. If I acted rashly and the police came, what would I say? That I could hear his thoughts? They'd think I was having a psychotic break. Worse, it would tip him off. This wolf in sheep’s clothing, this monster masquerading as a simple boy, would only retreat deeper into the shadows, devising more subtle, more insidious ways to destroy me and my family. I had to stay calm. I forced a smile, gesturing toward the gifts he'd brought. "Caleb, this is so thoughtful of you. Have you eaten dinner? Why don't you stay? I'll cook something special." Caleb immediately set down his glass, his eyes lighting up, his smile somehow becoming even more "sincere." "Oh, I couldn't possibly impose! That would be too much trouble for you, Jenna." Eat? Of course, I'll eat. This is the perfect chance to add the special ingredient I brought. It's a powder ground from poison mushrooms foraged from the mountains back home. Colorless, odorless. Ingesting it causes total organ failure within three hours. Not even a miracle could save her. The police will rule it accidental food poisoning. My heart plummeted into an icy abyss. He'd even brought the murder weapon with him. I glanced at the overstuffed canvas bag. Those seemingly innocent hometown specialties were my death warrant. "No trouble at all," I said, my voice strained but hopefully steady as I stood up. "What would you like? Let me see what I have in the fridge." I needed an excuse. An excuse to get out of his line of sight and call for help. "Jenna, I'd love anything you make," Caleb said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Oh! The dried bamboo shoots I brought would be amazing in a soup. How about we make a pork rib and bamboo shoot soup tonight?" He was showing his hand. My heart hammered against my ribs, but my face remained a mask of pleasantness. "That sounds delicious! Great idea. But..." I feigned a look of distress, wrinkling my brow. "What terrible timing. I had a bad reaction to some seafood a couple of days ago. The doctor told me to stick to a bland diet for a while, so I can't have rich soups right now." A flicker of almost imperceptible disappointment crossed Caleb's face. Too bad. The soup would have been so easy. But it doesn't matter. She has to drink water eventually. Pretending not to notice, I walked toward the kitchen. "Don't worry, I'll still make it for you. I'll be happy just watching you enjoy it. I'll start the rice." The kitchen had a semi-open layout; he could see my every move. I couldn't make a call or send a text. Any unusual action would trigger his suspicion. With my back to him, my mind raced. I needed backup. Someone who would understand my situation immediately, someone formidable, someone who didn't play by the rules. The police were out. My friends were mostly office workers like me… Then, a name exploded in my mind—my cousin, Marcus. Marcus was… well, he knew how to handle things. He'd run with a rough crowd in his youth but had gone straight and now owned a successful security firm. He employed a crew of guys who specialized in solving "difficult" problems. He might seem like a carefree joker, but we grew up together, and he was more protective of me than an actual brother. Only he could handle this unconventional demon with unconventional methods. I poked my head out of the kitchen, smiling. "Caleb, I just remembered. I promised my cousin I'd help him find a reliable intern. Since you just graduated and are looking for a job, what if I called him over? You two could chat in person." "A job?" Caleb's eyes lit up, a flash of raw greed passing through them. Perfect! After I kill her, I can use the 'internship' as a legitimate reason to get inside her company and prepare for the next phase of my plan! His thoughts confirmed it. This was the perfect bait. "Yeah," I said, pulling out my phone and pretending to scroll through my contacts casually. "My cousin owns his own company. He's a great guy, really generous, and he's looking for a sharp assistant. I think you'd be a perfect fit! If you're interested, I'll call him over to join us for dinner." "Interested? Of course, I'm interested!" Caleb shot to his feet, practically vibrating with excitement. "Thank you, Jenna! You're truly my guardian angel!" I smiled, dialed my cousin Marcus's number in front of him, and hit the speakerphone button. The phone rang twice before he picked up, his lazy drawl filling the air. "Yo, Jenna. What's up? Did some deadbeat boyfriend break your heart again? Need your big bro to come knock some heads together?" A massive weight lifted from my shoulders. I cleared my throat and adopted a light, almost boastful tone. "Get lost! I'm calling to offer you some top-tier talent! Remember that student I sponsor, Caleb? I told you about him. Well, he graduated and came to visit me today. I thought, since you're looking for people, maybe he could come work for you." Caleb leaned in close to the phone, his voice a mix of nerves and politeness. "Hello, Mr. Marcus!" Marcus was silent for a beat, then burst out laughing. "Alright, alright. If you're recommending him, Jenna, then I gotta give him a shot. Tell you what, I'm in the neighborhood. I'll be there in half an hour. I'll bring a good bottle of whiskey, we can eat and talk." "Great, but hurry up," I said, adding emphasis. "Oh, and bro? On your way over, could you do me a favor and deal with the mad dog from old Mr. Henderson's place downstairs?" Marcus's voice paused. "Mad dog? I thought Mr. Henderson had a little poodle." My heart seized, but my voice remained calm. "Ugh, don't even ask. I don't know what's gotten into it lately, but that poodle's gone rabid. It tries to lunge and bite at everyone. It even tried to break into my place yesterday! I'm here alone, and it's terrifying. You've got those big dogs, right? Could you bring a heavy-duty steel cage? We need to lock it up before it hurts someone." I spoke slowly and clearly. "Mad dog." "Tried to break into my place." "A heavy-duty steel cage." It was our code. When we were kids, our families lived across the hall from each other. A neighbor had a vicious dog that nearly mauled me once. It was Marcus who saved me, cornering it with a baseball bat. Ever since, "mad dog" had been our code for an extremely dangerous person. The line was silent for a few seconds. I could picture the playful smirk vanishing from his face, replaced by a cold, hard focus. "Right. I get it," his voice was steady and clipped. "I'll bring the cage. Lock your door. Wait for me." After he hung up, I let out a long, shuddering breath. Caleb was completely oblivious, still basking in the glow of his supposed job offer. This cousin sounds like some rich idiot. Perfect. After I inherit everything from Jenna, I'll absorb his company too. A murderous rage churned within me. Absorb my cousin's company? Caleb, you will never get the chance. Tonight, this home is the steel cage I've prepared just for you. Half an hour felt like a century. I pretended to be busy in the kitchen, washing and chopping vegetables, but my peripheral vision was locked on Caleb in the living room. He sat on the sofa, appearing restless and antsy, his hands constantly rubbing against his pants like a nervous young man before a job interview. But his mind was a different story. What is this woman doing, puttering around in the kitchen for so long? The rice isn't even on yet. What if her idiot cousin shows up and complicates things? No, I can't wait any longer. I have to stick to the original plan. First, get her to drink the drugged water. My stomach dropped. I saw him pick up his water glass and walk toward me. "Jenna, you've been working so hard. Take a break. Let me help." His face was a mask of profound concern. But I saw it. As he got closer, his fingertip quickly brushed the rim of the glass. A fine, colorless powder dissolved silently into the water. "No, no, I'm almost done!" I said, waving my hands, my heart about to explode out of my throat. "Jenna, just have a sip of water. You're sweating." He was insistent, pushing the glass toward my lips, his eyes holding a glint of unyielding obsession. I stared at the glass. Dissolved inside was a poison that would destroy my organs from the inside out. What could I do? Knock it away? That would mean showing my hand, and physically, I was no match for him. In a flash of inspiration, I swayed violently, pretending to lose my balance. The kitchen knife in my hand "slipped," clattering to the floor with a loud clang, the tip pointing directly at his feet. "Ah!" Caleb yelped, instinctively jumping back to avoid the blade. The sudden movement caused the water in the glass to slosh out, spilling most of its contents onto the floor. "I'm so sorry, so sorry!" I apologized frantically, crouching down to pick up the knife. "I've been working so much overtime lately, I think my blood sugar is low. I just got dizzy." Caleb's face was a thundercloud of fury, but it quickly smoothed back into his usual harmless expression, though a new layer of impatience hardened his eyes. Useless woman! Can't even hold a glass of water steady! It seems the gentle approach isn't going to work. This woman is more alert than I thought. He bent down, reaching out to help me up, but I could hear the vicious snarl of his thoughts. I'll have to tie her up first! When her cousin gets here, I'll find a way to lure him onto the balcony and push him from behind! A twenty-story fall, he won't survive. Then I'll come back and finish her off. I'll say they were arguing, that he killed her in a fit of rage and then jumped to his death. My body went rigid. "Jenna, are you okay?" he asked, his hand on my arm, while his other hand crept toward the canvas bag with the "gifts." From the side of the bag, I could see the unmistakable end of a coarse, thick rope. Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Just as Caleb's fingers were about to touch the rope, the doorbell rang. Sharp, loud, like a thunderclap of salvation. Caleb's movement froze, his face a mixture of surprise and frustration. Who is it? Her cousin said half an hour! It's only been twenty minutes! Pure joy surged through me. I scrambled away from Caleb's grasp, practically crawling toward the front door. "Must be the delivery I ordered! I got some fruit!" I babbled, fumbling with the doorknob. Caleb was right behind me, his eyes fixed on me like a wolf's, one hand already reaching for his pants pocket. I could see the hard outline of what looked like a folding knife. He was ready to kill me. My hand on the doorknob was shaking uncontrollably. Please, let it be Marcus. Please. I threw the door open. Standing on the other side was, indeed, my cousin Marcus. And he wasn't alone. Behind him stood four burly men in black t-shirts, all built like brick walls, with sharp, watchful eyes. They were professionals. And Marcus, at the lead, had shed his usual jokester persona. His expression was as cold and hard as ice. In his hand, glinting under the hallway light, was a large, heavy-duty, steel pet cage. The scene was surreal. The color drained from Caleb's face. The hand gripping the knife in his pocket froze solid.
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