The Cocoa Conspiracy

"Clara, drink this hot cocoa while it's still warm. I made it especially for you."

My mother-in-law Margaret held out that steaming, thick cup of cocoa and practically shoved it into my hands. She glanced left and right, then leaned in and whispered, "Shhh, I didn't make any for Ethan or Liam. This is all yours, exclusive."

Looking at that special drink that showed up like clockwork every night before bed, my stomach turned.

This was the night before my third attempt at the California Bar Exam.

As a straight-A graduate from Harvard Law School, I shouldn't have had any problem with the bar exam. But for the past two years, right after drinking Margaret's hot cocoa, I'd had the most batshit crazy accidents.

First bar exam: I suddenly got dizzy in that insanely strict exam hall, passed out cold on the spot, got carted off in an ambulance, and missed the whole thing entirely. Meanwhile, my husband Ethan — who couldn't even recite basic statutes and only knew how to play video games — somehow aced the hardest bar exam in the entire country that same year and got his law license like it was nothing.

Second bar exam: Margaret still showed up with that same smile and that same cup of hot cocoa. The second I stepped into the exam hall full of confidence, an excruciating stomach pain hit me so hard I collapsed on the floor rolling around, sweat soaking through every inch of my clothes. I failed again. But the even crazier part? My cousin Sophie, who only went to a community college, miraculously passed the bar exam that same year!

Two straight weird-ass accidents turned that sweet-smelling hot cocoa into a cup of poison in my eyes.

"Why aren't you drinking? Hurry up and finish it, you've got the exam tomorrow!" Margaret's urging voice had that sharp, insistent edge to it, her eyes glued to my lips like she wouldn't back off until I swallowed every last drop.

I forced down my racing heart, deliberately picked up the cup, and walked toward the door. Coincidentally, Liam — my brother-in-law who was also taking the bar exam tomorrow — was walking down the hallway.

"Liam, you're taking the exam tomorrow too. I can't finish this whole cup by myself, why don't we split it? Give your brain a little boost, take the edge off the pre-exam stress." I called out to him immediately, holding the cup out like I was about to hand it over.

Liam's eyes lit up and he reached for it right away. "For real? I get to try Mom's secret hot cocoa? Gimme a sip!"

Margaret lunged over and slapped his hand away hard.

"What the hell do you think you're drinking?!" Margaret's whole demeanor flipped in a second, glaring daggers at her own son. "Clara has an exam tomorrow, this is specifically for her nutrition! Stop hanging around here like a lost puppy, go back to your room!"

Liam held his red, stinging hand and yelled back, all attitude. "Why the fuck not?! I'm taking the exam too, I'm your real son, why does only Clara get hot cocoa? Mom, you're so fucking biased! Do I even exist to you?!"

Margaret snorted and fired back like she was totally in the right. "Why don't you look in the mirror and see what kind of grades you'd get? I'm biased toward Clara and I'm damn right about it. She's a Harvard grad with straight A's. What the hell do you have to compare?"

"So what if she went to Harvard?!" Liam was fully pissed off now, pointing straight at my face and laughing, pure contempt in his eyes. "Her grades might be fucking impressive normally, but she's failed the bar twice in a row! Two years ago she scored worse than Ethan, last year she couldn't even beat Sophie that community college loser! She's just a book-smart, real-world useless joke! What's the point of pumping her full of hot cocoa every day? You'd be better off feeding it to a dog!"

Those stinging words stabbed into my ears like knives, instantly ripping open every ounce of resentment I'd been bottling up.

Yeah, I'm the Harvard law genius, Ethan's the fuckup who fails every class, Sophie's the one who couldn't even get into law school. Why the hell do those two losers get to pass the California Bar Exam no problem, while I — the one who's fully prepared — can't even make it through the exam hall?

Margaret's face went completely dark. She pointed down the hallway and roared. "Shut your fucking mouth! Get back to bed right now, and if you say one more word I'll tear it off!"

Liam rolled his eyes hard, muttered a bunch of curses under his breath, and stormed off.

After chasing Liam away, Margaret turned back around, and the anger on her face instantly switched to a loving smile. "Clara, don't listen to Liam's bullshit. You just had bad luck the first two times, your body wasn't adjusted right. C'mon, listen to me, drink this hot cocoa, get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow's exam will be totally fine."

She pushed the cup back to my lips without giving me a choice, that sickly sweet cocoa smell hitting me right in the nose.

I looked into those expectant eyes of hers, and a cold chill spread through my entire body. If the first two times I just wrote it off as bad luck, now — putting together all the coincidences from the past two years, plus how she'd rather slap Liam than let him touch this cocoa — a horrifying guess had fully formed in my head.

This hot cocoa was definitely not for nutrition.

I took a deep breath, forced my trembling fingers to steady, forced out an obedient smile, and reached for the cup. "Thanks, but it's really too hot. I'll put it on the table to cool for a minute, I'll drink it right away."

Margaret stared at me suspiciously for a few seconds, then nodded reluctantly. "Fine, but don't you dare forget to drink it. Finish up and get some rest, I'll come get the cup in the morning."

The door clicked shut, and those heavy footsteps down the hallway faded away.

I picked up that cup of hot cocoa — the one that almost cost me my entire career — walked quickly to the window, and didn't hesitate for a second before pouring every last drop of that thick liquid into the flowerpot on the windowsill.

The dark brown liquid was swallowed by the dirt instantly, silent and gone.

I stared hard at the completely empty bottom of the cup, and the corner of my mouth curled up coldly.

This time, there shouldn't be any accidents, right?