My deceased father appeared in my dream the night before my birthday and warned, ‘Don’t wear the dress your husband gave you.’ I woke up trembling, because my husband had just given me that dress. And when the seamstress brought it back and I checked the lining, I realized my father hadn’t just visited in a dream, he might have prevented something I hadn’t noticed.

Liv froze, unable to believe what she was seeing.

The powder continued to fall a pinch at a time, no more than a teaspoon, pale, fine, odorless.

What is this? Why?

She recoiled from the bed, letting the dress fall. Her breathing quickened. A pounding started in her temples.

This wasn’t accidental.

Someone had deliberately sewn this into the lining.

Mark. Had he done this, or instructed the seamstress, too? But why? What was this powder?

Liv moved to the nightstand, picked up her phone with trembling hands, and dialed her friend’s number. Iris was a chemist at a hospital lab. If anyone could make sense of this, it was her.

“Iris.”

“Hey.” Her voice sounded unfamiliar, tense. “Can you talk right now?”

“Liv, what’s going on? You sound off.”

“I need your help right away.”

Iris hesitated, concern creeping into her tone.

“Is something wrong? Where are you?”

“At home.” Liv swallowed. “I found some powder in the dress. It was sewn into the lining. I don’t know what it is, but I’m really scared.”

Silence filled the line, then Iris asked cautiously, “Which dress?”

“The one Mark ordered for my birthday.”

Another pause, longer this time.

“Liv, listen to me carefully.” Her friend’s voice grew sharp, professional. “Don’t touch that powder again. Don’t touch it at all. Put the dress away where no one can come into contact with it, and come to the lab as soon as you can. We need to check what it is.”

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