Jake was dying. His wife, Becky, was maintaining a candlelight vigil by his side. She held his fragile
hand, tears running down her face.
Her prayers roused him from his slumber. He looked up and his pale lips began to move slightly.
"My darling Becky," he whispered.
"Hush, my love," she said. "Rest. Shhhh.... don't talk."
But, Jake was insistent. "Becky," he said in his tired voice, "I..... I have something I must confess
to you."
"There's nothing to confess," replied the weeping Becky. "Everything's alright. Just go to sleep."
"No, no.... I must die... in peace, Becky. I.... I slept with your sister, your best friend.... and...
and... your mother!"
"I know...." Becky whispered softly. "That's why I poisoned you."
