The effects took twelve hours to manifest fully.

By the next afternoon, the Burris estate was buzzing. Elberta was hosting the D.C. Ladies' Charity Tea in the garden. It was the social event of the season, a pit of vipers in silk hats.

Gina circulated among the guests, wearing a modest grey dress, playing the role of the submissive daughter-in-law.

Elberta sat at the head table, looking pale. Her hand trembled as she reached for her water glass. The caffeine concentrate was interacting with her blood pressure medication, causing palpitations and heightened anxiety.

Clink.

Elberta's hand spasmed. The glass tipped over, soaking the tablecloth.

"Dammit!" Elberta shouted. The profanity was shocking coming from the matriarch.

Heads turned.

"Mother?" Gina rushed over, grabbing a napkin. "Are you alright?"

"Get away from me!" Elberta swatted at Gina. "You pushed the glass! I saw you!"

Gina was three feet away. Everyone had seen that.

"I didn't touch it, Mother," Gina said gently, loud enough for the table to hear. "You're shaking."

"I am not shaking!" Elberta held up her hand. It was vibrating visibly. "Stop doing this to me!"

Dr. Sayer, the family physician who was attending as a guest, stepped forward. "Elberta, calm down. Your heart rate is elevated."

"She's trying to poison me!" Elberta screamed, pointing a shaking finger at Gina. "She's a witch!"

Gina looked at Dr. Sayer, her eyes wide with concern. "Doctor... she's been like this all morning. Extreme paranoia, tremors, moments of intense confusion where she seems to be hallucinating... Is it... could it be something neurological? Like Lewy Body dementia?"

She used the medical terms precisely, planting the seed.

Dr. Sayer frowned, looking at Elberta's dilated pupils and erratic behavior. To a doctor not looking for poison, it looked exactly like a neurological break.

"I'm not crazy!" Elberta tried to stand up but stumbled. She grabbed the tablecloth, pulling plates and tiered cake stands crashing to the ground.

The garden went silent.

"I think we need to get her inside," Dr. Sayer said gravely. "Gina, you might be right. These are classic symptoms of aggression associated with cognitive decline."

"No!" Elberta shrieked as two waiters helped her up. "Let me go!"

As they dragged the screaming woman away, the guests whispered behind their fans. Poor Gina. Dealing with a senile mother-in-law. How tragic.

Gina stood amidst the broken china. She watched Elberta disappear into the house.

Vesper appeared at her elbow. "That was ruthless."

Gina picked up a white rose from a centerpiece. She crushed the petals in her fist.

"She called me a barren mule when I miscarried in my last life," Gina said, her voice devoid of emotion. "A little public embarrassment is mercy."

"Hansford is on his way home," Vesper warned.

"Good," Gina said. "I need to comfort my grieving husband. After all, his mother is 'sick.' Someone needs to take over the family accounts."

Gina was in the study, reviewing the household ledger, when Vesper entered. She didn't knock. Her face was grim.

"Security has Chloe," Vesper said.

Gina dropped her pen. Chloe. The young assistant. The only person in this house who had shown Gina kindness in the past. Hansford had broken her leg last time for passing a note.

"Where?" Gina stood up.

"The basement holding room. Zoe accused her of theft."

Gina moved. She didn't walk; she ran.

She burst into the basement room. The air smelled of damp concrete and fear.

The head of security, a brute named Miller, was standing over a chair. Chloe was curled in it, sobbing. Her hand was cradled against her chest. Her index finger was bent at a sickening angle.

Zoe, a maid who slept with Hansford for extra cash, stood in the corner, smirking.

"Stop!" Gina shouted.

Miller stepped back. "Mrs. Burris. We caught this girl stealing the Senator's files."

Gina ignored him. She knelt beside Chloe. "Let me see."

Chloe whimpered, pulling away. "I didn't do it, ma'am. I swear."

Gina gently took Chloe's hand. The finger was dislocated, maybe fractured. Rage, hot and blinding, flooded Gina's vision. But she forced it down into cold calculation.

She stood up and turned to Zoe.

"You saw her steal?" Gina asked softly.

"Yes," Zoe said, crossing her arms. "She had the files in her apron."

"Which files?"

"The... confidential ones."

Gina laughed. It was a harsh sound. "The study door requires dual authentication, Zoe. My fingerprint and an authorized keycard. Chloe has neither."

She stepped closer to Zoe. "You're lying."

"I'm not!" Zoe insisted. "The Senator gave me..." She stopped, realizing she was about to admit she had access.

"Search her," Gina ordered Miller.

Miller hesitated. "Ma'am, Zoe is trusted by the Senator..."

"Search her, or I call the police and report an assault on a minor," Gina barked.

Miller sighed and patted Zoe down. He reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a plastic card.

It was Hansford's personal keycard.

Zoe's eyes went wide. "That's not mine! I didn't put that there!"

Gina looked at Vesper. Vesper gave a microscopic nod. She had planted it during the confusion.

"Grand larceny," Gina said. "Stealing a Senator's access card. That's a federal offense, Zoe."

"She planted it!" Zoe screamed, pointing at Vesper.

"Take her away," Gina said to Miller. "Lock her in the guest cottage until the police arrive. And Miller? If you touch Chloe again, I will have your license revoked."

Miller, realizing the power dynamic had shifted, grabbed Zoe by the arm. "Let's go."

As they dragged the screaming maid out, Gina turned back to Chloe.

"Vesper, get the first aid kit. The trauma one."

Gina set Chloe's finger right there in the basement. She worked with the precision of the surgeon she should have been.

"Why?" Chloe asked through her tears as Gina bandaged her hand. "Why did you save me?"

Gina wiped a tear from the girl's cheek. "Because you are the only one in this house who has a soul. And because I need you."

"For what?"

"War," Gina said.

That night, the atmosphere in the master bedroom was suffocating.

Hansford came in carrying a tray. On it was a bag of yellow fluid and an IV line.

"Dr. Sayer thinks you need a boost," Hansford said, his voice dripping with fake concern. "Vitamins. For the stress."

Gina looked at the bag. It wasn't vitamins. She recognized the chemical signature from the research she'd done in her past life. It was a cocktail of sedatives and a synthetic hormone that caused long-term sterility. He wanted to keep her docile and barren. A cold, triumphant fury settled in her heart. He was so predictable. She had anticipated this move weeks ago, in another lifetime, and just yesterday had Vesper swap the vial in the locked medical cabinet with a simple saline solution mixed with a mild, harmless sedative. The real poison was now safe in her possession, waiting for a more deserving recipient.

"I hate needles, Hansford," she whispered, shrinking back against the pillows.

"It's for your own good, Gina." He sat on the edge of the bed. "Don't make me call Miller to hold you down."

The threat was naked.

Gina extended her arm. "Okay. Just... hold my hand?"

Hansford smiled, satisfied with her submission. The nurse he had hired-a silent woman who asked no questions-inserted the needle.

"Good girl," Hansford said. He watched the drip start. Drip. Drip. Drip.

He sat there for ten minutes, reading a file, waiting for her eyes to droop.

Gina slowed her breathing. She relaxed her facial muscles. She let her eyelids flutter and close.

"Gina?" Hansford whispered.

She didn't answer. She let her jaw go slack.

"Out like a light," Hansford muttered. He stood up, stretched, and walked toward the bathroom. "I'm going to shower. Don't disturb me," he told the nurse. "You can go."

The nurse left. The bathroom door closed. The shower turned on.

Gina's eyes snapped open.

She reached under her sleeve, not to her arm, but to the IV line itself. With a surgeon's precision, she used a tiny connector she'd hidden under her pillow to attach a micro-catheter, a tube as fine as a fishing line. She fed the other end of the tube into a slit in the plush velvet headboard, where Vesper had earlier installed a concealed, high-capacity absorbent medical pouch. The fluid continued to drip, but now it was being silently siphoned away, not into her bloodstream.

She adjusted her sleeve to hide the connection.

Vesper slid into the room from the balcony door like a shadow.

"He's in the shower," Vesper whispered. "You have fifteen minutes."

Gina threw off the covers. She was dressed in black leggings and a tight shirt.

"Watch the door," Gina ordered. "If he comes out, kill the power."

"Understood."

Gina moved. She slipped out of the bedroom, her bare feet silent on the carpet. She knew the hallway cameras had a blind spot every thirty seconds. She timed her run.

She reached the study door. Locked.

She pulled out the keycard she had "confiscated" from Zoe. She pressed her thumb against the biometric scanner beside the keypad. It glowed green. Her access was still valid. Then she swiped the card.

Beep. A second green light.

She slipped inside. The room smelled of cigars and corruption.

She went straight to the large oil painting of Hansford's grandfather. She swung it aside.

There was the safe.

She pulled out a small electronic decoder Brandon had given her. She attached it to the keypad.

Red numbers raced across the screen.

Calculating...