Jane’s heart raced as she listened to Monica’s panicked voice on the other end of the line. Her mind immediately flashed back to the ring she had tampered with earlier, drenching it in habanero pepper juice before surreptitiously returning it to her husband’s car. Could it be…?

“Monica, where are you right now?” Jane asked, her voice urgent.

“At home,” Monica replied, her voice strained. “But it’s unbearable, Jane. I can’t stop itching. What’s happening to me?”

Jane’s mind raced as she considered the implications of her actions. She knew she had to act fast to help her friend, but she also couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that her husband might be involved somehow.

“Monica, listen to me carefully,” Jane said, her mind whirling with possibilities. “I need you to take a shower right away and try to rinse off as much of the irritant as possible. Then, take an antihistamine if you have one. I’m on my way to your house right now.”
As Jane hastily gathered her things and rushed out the door, her thoughts were consumed by worry and guilt. What had she done? And why had her husband been acting so strangely lately? As she drove to Monica’s house, her mind raced with questions and fears.
When she arrived, Monica was visibly relieved to see her, and Jane immediately set to work examining her friend’s skin for signs of irritation. As she inspected the red, inflamed patches covering Monica’s arms and neck, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of Jane’s stomach.

“Monica, I think… I think I might know what’s causing this,” Jane said slowly, her voice filled with remorse. “But we need to talk.”