Diane walked up the three flights of stairs to her apartment complex after a twelve-hour shift. The mental exhaustion hit her as she turned the key and opened the door. She was hit in the face with the pungent stench of bad cheese. Her husband probably started dinner early. He did like to experiment with new recipes.

The bathroom was in the hall to the living room. She placed her keys on key rack and listened for movement in the kitchen. Nobody there. The light was off.

She started browsing her phone when she walked into the living room. The smell was stronger. Her heart skipped a beat and her mind collapsed into shock when she saw her husband’s body slumped back on the couch, his brains splattered against the wall.

“What?!” She cried. “What?! Ho–No! Baby no!”

His hands were empty. There were no signs of a struggle but she couldn’t comprehend much else. In horror and disgust she retreated into the bathroom, fell to her knees, and called 911.

Her hands could barely hold the phone as the line rang for several seconds. A male voice answered, “911, what’s your emergency?”

Barely able to breathe she panted and wailed, ” My husbands…I think my husband’s dead…I… He…I don’t know…I can smell…his brains.” Joel’s body had been seared into her mind like a ghost image. His lifeless hands had been lying open on his legs, as if pleading for salvation.

A few moments of silence passed. His voice was somehow familiar, “Mrs. Hammond, please remain calm. What is your emergency?”

She froze, sinking further into shock. How did he know her name? There was no time to think. “My husband’s been shot.” Wiping away the tears that blurred her vision she choked out the words. “I just got home. I don’t know what happened…”

A few more seconds passed. She wondered what was taking so long as she shook violently as if caught in a cold breeze, “My god it’s horrible. I can’t…I can’t.”

“Diane,” the male operator spoke her name. Again, she was puzzled. “I know what you did. You deserve this.”

“No, no, what? What are you saying?” She looked at her smart phone. The number she had dialed had been redirected to an unknown number. Fear consumed her. “What is this? Who are you?”

“You deserve this. I saw the pictures, Diane. I know you were with him last night. He was my best friend. I’d asked how you could do this but I’m currently indisposed.”

She tried to interrupt with what strength she had left, “I… I don’t understand.” but the voice kept speaking.

“–camera in his kitchen. We could have been so much more but you ruined everything. I tried to be the best person I could be for you, tried to satisfy you. I guess it wasn’t enough.” Her pulse dropped when she recognized the automated voice. “It was supposed to be us against the world, Diane. Now it’s just you.”

As the last words hit her like a freight train, she tried to use the wall as a support to stand. Everything they went through flashed before her eyes. All the memories were bittersweet and empty.

The voice continued unabated, “Don’t look for the gun. After my death I had the gun hidden in a dumpster along with your fingerprints. I still have friends I can still trust. This message will be deleted, the line is untraceable. The authorities should have the gun by now.”

She didn’t know how to feel. In one sense there was the loss she felt for her husband. In another reality she had just been framed for murder.

Before the line dropped there was one final message, “When I said I’d die for you, I meant it. Go to hell.”