Dragged Into a Group Chat

After I finished feeding the kids, I swallowed the nausea in my throat and made an excuse to wash the bottle so I could slip out of the bedroom.

I clicked into Evie's profile.

She hadn't shown her full face, but her background picture was a balcony shot. In the corner, there was a cartoon bear rug, and along the edge of it was a faint red wine stain.

My breath caught in my throat.

I had just bought that rug last month, and the pothos beside her foot was the same one I had repotted three days ago. That was my balcony.

My grip loosened, and my phone nearly slipped out of my hand.

I stared at the screen, my eyes fixed on that photo, as my heartbeat spiraled out of control. My lips trembled, my throat tightened, and my vision began to darken.

Just as I was about to tap her profile picture and send her a private message, another notification popped up.

"The kids get to call him Dad, and that should be his honor. He doesn't need to know whether they're his biological children or not."

It was still Evie, her tone light, as if everything she said were perfectly reasonable.

The group chat exploded once more.

"She's fearless!"

"I love a crazy married woman like you. Send a full-body shot."

"Give us the details and the whole story! We need a recording of this!"

I stared at the screen as the corner of my mouth twitched.

No one thought this was wrong, and no one felt ashamed. They were excited, like a pack of starving coyotes tearing into a piece of bloody meat, and I was the man who was being flayed alive without even realizing it.

My fingers shook as I prepared to type.

Just then, she sent another message.

"But it's fine. Soon, I'll be able to run away with the children's real father and live happily ever after. After all, that sucker is about to die."

For a split second, the words didn't register. When it finally clicked that the sucker was me, it felt as if my brain had been struck by a bolt of lightning.

She wanted me dead? She and that man were waiting for me to die so they could run off together?

I clenched my teeth so hard that my vision went red.

This wasn't just infidelity anymore. This was her practically announcing my murder.

Yet, the people in the group chat were still laughing.

"Oh, my God, this is insane! I love this plot."

"Girl, you have to live-stream it when you inherit everything."

"Damn! It's one thing to cuck the guy, but killing him is brutal…"

I stood frozen in the kitchen, my body ice-cold, while my brain felt like it was on fire. I tried to calm myself down and kept repeating under my breath, "Stay calm. Let's not jump to conclusions."

But the more I tried to steady myself, the more chaotic my thoughts became.

A while ago, Evelyn suddenly told me that she wanted to take out a life insurance plan for me, saying it was about "family responsibility."

Back then, I even thought she was being considerate, so I signed the papers without reading them.

Now that I thought about it again, I realized they were critical illness and accidental death policies, and Evelyn was listed as the sole beneficiary.

My head buzzed.

Recently, she had suddenly become obsessed with fitness. She went on morning runs, worked on her abs, and posted healthy meals every day.

She used to get winded just climbing stairs, and she wouldn't even touch detox tea. Now, she showed off her figure, filmed videos, and checked in at the gym more punctually than I showed up to work.

She adored our daughters and would choose outfits and buy tons of snacks for them. But whenever the girls called me "Dad" in front of outsiders, her face would darken.

"Don't call him 'Dad' when we're out and about," she said.

I was confused back then, but she smiled and brushed it off. Only now did I feel a chill run down my spine.

Her smile hadn't been the same as before for a long time. The way she smiled at me now was like an actress going by a script.

My throat was parched, my breathing heavy.

I started frantically digging through the drawers until I found the girls' hair ties. I pulled a few strands of hair from them and carefully put them into a sealed plastic bag.

I had to test them. Even if there was only a shred of possibility, I had to find out the truth.

I had just hidden the hair when the bedroom door suddenly opened.