She Killed Them All to Save Her Sister

1: 1

My first two husbands both killed themselves. Depression, they said. Both swallowed poison while I was out of the house.

My third husband I chose with care. A photography buff, decent, upbeat, always looking forward.

But in the third year of our marriage, while I was staying at my parents' place a thousand miles away, a group of officers showed up at the door out of nowhere.

"Blanche Henson, your husband's been poisoned to death at home."

The news hit so hard my phone slipped out of my hand and hit the floor.

I covered my face, staring in disbelief at a familiar face, Captain Chavez from the task force.

"Captain Chavez, why do all my husbands end up poisoned? Why can you never find who did it?"

Captain Chavez snapped the cuffs onto my wrists.

"Drop the act, Blanche Henson. You're the killer."

I stared at him, refusing to believe it.

"Captain Chavez, what are you talking about? My husband was poisoned at home, and I was a thousand miles away."

1

Looking at the cuffs on my wrists, the anger in me hit its peak.

His eyes were sharp as a hawk's, locked on me.

"Still stubborn? Do I have to lay the evidence out before you'll give it up?"

I spat at his feet.

"Captain Chavez, you really disappoint me."

"Fred Whitney is my husband. Why would I ever hurt him?"

"You can't catch the killer, so you pin it on a woman a thousand miles away with no chance to have done it?"

"If this gets out, aren't you afraid people will curse you behind your backs?"

Captain Chavez said coldly,

"We work by evidence. Three husbands in a row, every one poisoned the moment you left the house. One might be chance. But three?"

I clenched my fists in fury.

"Captain Chavez, if that's your evidence, then it's a joke!"

My parents heard the commotion and came running out.

Seeing me surrounded by all these officers, my mother was terrified.

My father rushed forward.

"What's going on? What's going on? Why are you arresting my daughter?"

He tried to lunge in, but they held him back.

Captain Chavez looked at him.

"Your son-in-law is dead."

My father went pale with shock.

"Again? He died again?"

At that, my mother crumpled to the floor, slapping the ground, wailing,

"Why is this happening? Is my daughter really cursed to bring death to her husbands? Marked by some evil star? Doomed to grow old alone?"

Watching my parents sob, Captain Chavez said sternly,

"Enough with the crying. You're both suspects too, and you'll both cooperate with the investigation!"

"Us?" My father stared at him, unable to believe it. "Sir, aren't you making a mistake? We're farmers, plain and simple. We work the land every day. How would we ever kill anyone?"

Captain Chavez didn't bother explaining. He gave the order. "Take them all in. Question them separately."

The interrogation room.

After they had grilled me for a long time, Captain Chavez walked in.

He slammed my parents' statements down hard on the table and asked me,

"Blanche Henson, still won't admit it?"

I looked at him, confused.

"Admit what?"

Captain Chavez asked,

"Did you or did you not kill Fred Whitney?"

I was so angry I laughed.

"Whatever you say. Three husbands dead one after another with no explanation. I don't want to live anymore anyway."

"Whatever charge you want to hang on me, go ahead. As long as you write it down, I'll sign every word."