“Oh, I didn’t eat them. I gave them to Laura and the children. You know how much Charles loves chocolate.”
Thomas went completely silent.
At first, I thought the call had disconnected, but then I heard his breathing becoming heavier on the other end. When he finally spoke, his voice erupted with such panic that I nearly dropped the phone.
“YOU DID WHAT?”
I repeated myself, now confused, but Thomas immediately demanded to know whether I had eaten any chocolates and whether Laura or the children had already tried them. His questions came so rapidly that my confusion began turning into fear.
“No, Thomas. I just dropped them off. What is wrong with you?”
Instead of explaining, he accused me of always needing to give things away and demanded to know why I couldn’t simply keep something for myself. Then he abruptly ended the call.
I stood alone in my kitchen holding the receiver, listening to the empty line while one disturbing thought slowly formed. Thomas hadn’t sounded offended that I had given away an expensive birthday present; he had sounded terrified that his wife and children might eat it.
Two hours later, Laura called from the hospital.
