I left my wife outside in the freezing cold because my sister yelled, “That woman is using you”; when I opened the balcony door I found a fingerprint, a cigarette butt and an unfinished letter, but what destroyed me the most was knowing who those $8,000 were really for.

Neither he nor Nora smoked. Gwen didn’t either, or at least that’s what he thought.

When Gwen saw him checking the balcony, she stiffened. “What are you doing there?”

Liam put the cigarette butt in a napkin. “I seek the truth.”

Gwen lowered her gaze. Desperate, Liam called Owen, his best friend, who worked for the municipal police.

They met at a coffee shop near the town square. Liam handed him the glass, the cigarette butt, the hair, and told him everything.

Owen listened without interrupting. “This is no longer a marital problem,” Owen finally said. “If there’s poison, there’s a crime.”

Hours later, Owen arrived at the apartment with a sealed envelope. “The glass had traces of the same substance,” Owen said. “And the hair belongs to a woman named Paige Brewer.”

Liam frowned. “I don’t know her.”

Owen looked at him seriously. “But Gwen did. They were friends since high school, and Paige works in an agrochemical factory.”