The Hidden Threat
The officers began asking about David’s work — his coworkers, his schedule, anyone who could have had access to his clothes or locker.
That’s when I remembered something — lately, David had been coming home later than usual. He said he was staying behind to “clean up the site.” One evening, I noticed a strong chemical smell on his clothes, but he laughed it off.
When I mentioned that, one of the officers exchanged a grave look with the doctor.
“That explains it,” the detective said quietly. “This wasn’t random. Someone applied a corrosive compound to his shirt or skin. It’s an assault.”
My legs gave out. I gripped the edge of the chair, trembling.
The Truth Comes Out
After several days of treatment, David’s condition began to improve. The red blisters faded, leaving light scars.
When he was finally strong enough to talk, he took my hand and whispered, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. There’s a man at work — the foreman. He wanted me to sign fake invoices for materials that were never delivered. I refused. He threatened me… but I never thought he’d actually do something like this.”
Tears streamed down my face. My honest, gentle husband had suffered for choosing integrity.
