Jessyca
I looked at myself one last time in the visor mirror. I laughed. Master of disguise. Thank you, mama, for teaching me everything I needed to know about makeup.
The borrowed black wig with silver streaks Autumn gave me when she handed me my little undetectable murder weapon, which she had refined into liquid form, was perfect. It helped age me considerably. I looked at the vial next to me. Death Cap mushrooms, who would have thought the fuckers were so deadly? Shutting down your kidneys and liver, and looking like a supplement overload.
I had flirted with the doctor to tell me the diagnosis they had come up with. I needed to make sure the mushrooms weren’t detectable. Autumn had said they wouldn’t be, but one can never be too careful. Life in prison was not something I wanted.
