Becky was on her
deathbed with her husband, John, maintaining a steady vigil by her side. As he
held her fragile hand, his warm tears ran silently down his face, splashed onto
her face, and roused her from her slumber.
She looked up and her pale lips began to move slightly. "My darling John," she
whispered.
"Hush, my love," he said. "Go back to sleep. Shhh. Don't talk."
But she was insistent. "John," she said in her tired voice. "I have to talk. I
have something I must confess to you."
"There's nothing to confess" replied the weeping John. "It's all right. everything's
all right, go to sleep now."
"No, no. I must die in peace, John. I slept with your brother, your best friend
and your father."
John mustered a pained smile and stroked her hand. "Hush now Becky, don't torment
yourself. I know all about it." he said, "Why do you think I poisoned you?"