It was a trap.
She had set the table for two.
The perfect dinner, a perfect evening in store.
He would not know what hit him tonight.
Dressed in her best outfit.
Blood painted on her nails and lips.
Revenge at last.
She concealed the knife under her table, a mere hand away. Easy to grasp. Easy to kill.
Her sister would get peace through her deceitful love.
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.