The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY novel Chapter 25

I couldn’t lose Pumpkin.

But I couldn’t beat Blair either.

I was halfway out the door, Pumpkin limp in my arms, when Mrs. Kowalski caught me on her porch.

“Blair again?” She clucked her tongue. “Sweetheart, you’re too good for your own good.”

I wiped my face with my sleeve.

“You can’t win a fistfight? Then don’t fight fair.” She leaned in close. “Sleeping pills. Laxatives. Won’t kill her–just levels the playing field a bit.”

Mom always said Mrs. Kowalski was a busybody. That I shouldn’t listen to her.

But right then, holding Pumpkin while he wheezed in my arms, her words made perfect sense.

I waited until Blair was in the shower, then tore through Mom’s bathroom cabinet until I found her Ambien.

Back in my room, I staged a phone call. Made sure my voice carried through the wall.

“Oh my God, yes–those skin vitamins you gave me are amazing. I’m literally glowing.”

I hung up and waited.

Blair hated that I was the one people liked–the one who got compliments in the hallway. Blair had Grandpa’s build: stocky, broad–shouldered, the kind of kid who played defense on the soccer team and threw elbows in the paint.

She’d swiped Mom’s diet pills before. Hoarded her face creams.

I knew she’d take the bait.

Ten minutes later, she shoved my door open.

“Where are they?”

“Where’s what?”

She grabbed a book off my desk and cracked it across my face. Then her fist. Once, twice.

When I could barely see straight, I choked out, “Nightstand drawer.”

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The Verdict on My Husband the Judge: GUILTY

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Chapter 2

She ripped it open, found the bottle, and swallowed four pills dry without even looking at the label.

I clutched Pumpkin to my chest, pulse hammering, couldn’t watch.

Twenty minutes later, she was facedown on her bed, snoring

I shook her arm. Hard.

Nothing.

I searched her room until I found my cash–shoved inside a makeup bag under her mattress.

Grabbed Pumpkin and bolted.

I didn’t know where the emergency vet was, so I ran to Grandma’s and got my cousin Jake to drive us.

It took hours. By the time they had Pumpkin on fluids, it was almost dawn.

“He’ll pull through,” the vet said. “Keep him here a few days to be safe.”

The bill was steep. But I didn’t blink.

“I’ve got it.”

First time I’d ever taken something back from Blair.

Wouldn’t be the last.

Walking home, I bought a rainbow popsicle with the leftover change. First one I’d ever eaten start to finish without her snatching it from my hands.

I was already planning the next round. If I kept her knocked out every few days, she couldn’t lay a finger on me.

But when I got home, Mom and Dad were carrying Blair out the front door–her head lolling, vomit down her shirt. skin gray.

My stomach dropped.

Mom grabbed my wrist, dragging me toward the car.

“You’re coming too. If it’s food poisoning, you might’ve eaten the same thing.”

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