John woke up in the hospital. He looked around the room with confusion. He sat for a minute and the reason came to him. Doctor Pickford walked in about that time. “Oh it’s good to see you’re awake. How much do you remember?”
John shifts his weight in his bed. “My wife, she pushed me. She pushed me off of the cruise ship. Right in the middle of the ocean. Last thing I remember was swallowing a large amount of water.”
“You’re very lucky that the coastguard came by when they did. They haven’t caught her yet. The ship made a stop at St. Johns. She never got back on the ship. She’s made it onto the FBI’s top ten list. You’ve been out for a week. They did some digging and she’s been married four times. Five including you. You’re the only one still alive. She has many aliases. It’s a miracle that you’re alive. They’re calling her the Black Widow.”
John was released a few days later from the hospital. He made the long journey back to Michigan. He pays the taxi driver and grabs his bags, happy to be back home. He sees the mail piled up on the counter, making a mental note to call his sister later to thank her for looking after his place this entire time.
John grabs the mail and begins shuffling through it then places it back on the counter. Something in the mail catches his eye. A postcard. He grabs the postcard and there she was, his wife. It wasn’t over yet.