arm. “I lied,” she whispered, pressing the receipt into my palm before disappearing inside. Beneath the printed total, two handwritten words stared back at me: “Drink drugged.”
Suddenly, I remembered the strange bitterness in my glass just before we left. I had blamed the lemon and thought nothing more of it. Now, I realized the waitress was warning me about something far more serious, and I needed to act before my companion discovered what she had done.
I forced myself to remain calm and told him I had forgotten my
