Chapter 4: The Gift

After seeing Mr. Turner off, I went home and crashed. When I woke up, it was already 5 pm. Lillian was sitting by the bed, looking at me with wide eyes and smiling.

The room was bathed in golden sunset, and the air smelled faintly of barbecue and sweet onion. I blinked, squinting, not sure for a second if I was dreaming.

“Why are you back?” I asked, surprised.

“I missed you, so I came home. What, planning to bring someone over while I’m gone?”

“Very funny. Hungry? I’ll make something to eat.”

“Not hungry. I finished work early and came back. Look at you, sleeping in the middle of the day, even drooling a bit. Isn’t that gross?” Lillian pulled out a tissue to wipe the corner of my mouth, then grabbed her phone. “You okay? Sleeping this late isn’t like you.”

Her touch was soft, but I flinched like she’d burned me. She didn’t notice—or pretended not to.

“Just wanted to rest for a bit, didn’t expect to fall asleep.”

I got out of bed. Lillian’s suitcase was still by the door, so she must’ve just come back.

“I brought the best barbecue and sliders from there. Just heat them up and we can eat. I’ll go send a file and then come heat them up.”

Lillian went into the other room. I quietly entered the study, opened the message board, and soon she updated her post again.

Challenge 91: Let your partner touch something stained with bodily fluids from you and another man. Completed.

My stomach lurched. I staggered to the sink, dry-heaving, the taste of bile sharp in my throat. Thinking of her just wiping my mouth, I almost threw up again.

A wave of nausea rolled through me, cold and hot all at once. I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to keep my composure. For a second, I thought about running out to the backyard, to the neighbor’s old oak, just to get some air and clear my head. But I couldn’t move.

“Honey, I’m heating the food,” Lillian called from outside.

I forced myself to shut off the computer, came out, and said, “No, I have to run to the office, you eat first.”

Lillian rushed over to hug me: “Honey, come home early, I have a gift for you.”

I grabbed my laptop and drove to the office, opened the message board again, and saw that Lillian’s ongoing challenges were drawing more and more users. In just a short while, she’d gotten hundreds of admiring comments.

All kinds of languages, all kinds of scripts.

After watching for a while, I saw Lillian replying to comments in both English and Spanish.

“Because he is very cruel to me, he tortures me, abuses my nerves.

He demands that I must kneel to speak to him, otherwise he will beat me.

He threatens me with nude photos, forcing me to obey his orders.”

Some people expressed doubts: “I read all your challenges carefully, and I think you’re lying. You can appear behind him to pull out his hair, and you can appear next to him when he’s asleep. If he’s really a monster like you say, he should lock you up, not trust you so much.”

Similar doubts were quickly deleted.

I waited until after 7 o’clock, which is 8 am in Florida.

“Good morning CatKinHeaven, I’m really excited to see your update. This is another step toward your goal. I’m especially curious, how do you plan to complete challenge 100? Won’t you go to jail in your country for this?”

Soon, Lillian replied: “It’s night here, good evening. For challenge 100, I have a great way to make him die but it won’t be my responsibility. Please look forward to my update.”

Lillian’s English is really good. I double-checked before believing she hadn’t made any mistakes.

She was determined to kill me.