The restaurant was sparsely populated, and Norma and David sat at a table against the wall. Norma appeared visibly tense, speaking in a hurried, low voice, while David adopted an air of casual reassurance. However, beneath his seemingly nonchalant demeanor lay a thinly veiled unease, as if he didn’t entirely believe his own words.

At a nearby table, Mrs. Oliver sat with a menu propped up in front of her, feigning interest in its contents while straining to eavesdrop. She had immediately recognized the eccentric man in the red velvet waistcoat as David, the same individual Norma had described. Although she couldn’t see Norma’s face, the girl’s stiff shoulders and trembling voice revealed the turmoil she was experiencing.

“I’m not sure what I did,” Norma murmured, her words spilling out in a rush. “But I know she’s sick. My stepmother, Mary… The doctor says they can’t find anything wrong, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s my fault.”

David exhaled softly, leaning back in his chair with a hint of impatience. “Norma, you’re imagining things. You didn’t do anything. You just need to relax.”

“But what if I did?” Norma’s voice rose slightly, tinged with desperation. “That bottle—it’s in my drawer. A dark green bottle with the label Dragon Weed Killer. It’s poisonous, David. I know it’s poisonous!”

David’s expression faltered momentarily but quickly regained its composure. “Do you remember where you got it?” he asked.

“I don’t remember,” Norma replied, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Sometimes I think I do, but then I’m not sure. Everything’s so muddled. I don’t even know if I put it in the drawer—or if I used it…” Her sentence trailed off.

David leaned forward slightly, his voice a notch quieter. “Are you saying you might have used it?”

“I don’t know!” Norma’s voice cracked as she covered her face with her hands. “That’s the problem—I don’t know! I hated her, David! From the beginning, I hated her! I wanted to kill her… but now she’s sick, and I’m terrified. I don’t know if it’s my fault.”

“Norma, listen to me.” David’s tone softened, though it carried a note of urgency. “These are just thoughts, okay? You’re scared of your own thoughts. That doesn’t mean they’re real.”

“But I don’t know,” Norma said, her voice muffled through her hands. “Sometimes I say or do things and have no memory of it afterward. What’s wrong with me, David? Am I going insane?”

David reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away sharply, as if his touch might make her shatter further. “You’re just overwhelmed,” he said soothingly. “Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll figure this out. We can leave this place—start fresh somewhere else.”

“Leave here?” Norma lifted her head, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and yearning. “But I… I can’t do that. My father would find me. He’d send me to… that place.”

“He won’t,” David said firmly. “If we get married, he won’t have any authority over you. We could go to the registrar’s office right now and make it official.”

Norma lowered her gaze, silent for a long moment. Her fingers twisted the edge of her napkin, the knuckles whitening with the force of her grip. David watched her for a moment, then sighed, realizing his suggestion wasn’t being received as he’d hoped.

Mrs. Oliver observed the interaction, her unease deepening. Norma’s fragile state was far worse than she had imagined, and while David appeared to be offering support, his eagerness to push her toward drastic action struck an unsettling chord. There was a dissonance in his approach that left Mrs. Oliver questioning whether Norma was truly safe—or if David’s motives might harbor something darker.

Their conversation seemed to be winding down as Norma murmured, “I don’t know… I really don’t know.” David, breaking the tension, grabbed the menu and called out to the waiter, “Two pieces of toast and baked beans!” Then, lowering his voice, he added to Norma, “You need to eat something. It’ll make you feel better.”

Mrs. Oliver resolved that this situation was far more complex than she’d initially believed. Norma’s predicament clearly extended beyond familial discord, hinting at deeper, more sinister layers. And as for David, his true intentions were now something Mrs. Oliver felt compelled to investigate further.