For 18 Years I Took Sleeping Pills… Until I Discovered What My Husband Was Doing At Night… SHOCK!

A Symphony of Justice

Forty-five minutes later, right on schedule, Brad crept into our bedroom with his tablet and a small electronic device—the thumbprint scanner, I assumed. I lay perfectly still as he tested my consciousness, calling my name, shaking my shoulder more roughly than usual.

He was nervous tonight; I could smell the sweat mixed with his cologne. When he was satisfied I was unconscious, he pulled out his phone.

“Victoria, I’m starting now.” he said.

“Get to the house in 15 minutes.” he instructed.

“We’ll do the transfer here then go straight to the airport.” he planned.

He paused, listening.

“No, she’s completely out.” he assured her.

“I gave her an extra dose.” he added.

“Mixed it with her wine at dinner without her noticing.” he bragged.

Wine I hadn’t drunk, hiding it in my napkin and the potted plant next to my chair. But Brad didn’t know that, just like he didn’t know about the FBI agent stationed outside, the cameras recording everything, or my sister waiting in the guest room with a federal warrant.

Brad grabbed my hand, pressing my thumb to the scanner. The device beeped and he quickly moved to his tablet, fingers flying across the screen as he initiated the transfer.

That’s when the doorbell rang. He froze, looking at his phone in confusion.

“You’re early,” he muttered, heading downstairs to let in what he thought was Victoria.

The moment he left the room, I sat up, pulling out my phone to text Rebecca.

“He’s opening the door now.” I typed.

What happened next was like watching a beautiful symphony of justice. Brad opened the door, but instead of Victoria, there stood two FBI agents with badges gleaming under our porch light.

“Bradley Meyer, we have a warrant for your arrest on charges of fraud, identity theft, forgery, and conspiracy to commit wire fraud.” an agent announced.

“There must be some mistake,” Brad started, his charm turned up to maximum.

“I’m just a financial adviser having a late meeting with a colleague.” he claimed.

“That colleague wouldn’t be Victoria Chen, would it?” the second agent asked.

“Because we just arrested her in the parking lot of the Marriott downtown.” the agent added.

“She’s been very chatty about your operation.” the agent concluded.

I couldn’t resist. I walked down the stairs, fully awake and coherent, watching Brad’s face cycle through confusion, shock, and finally pure rage as he realized what had happened.

“Hi, honey,” I said sweetly.

“Trouble sleeping?” I asked.

“Me too.” I added.

“Haven’t taken those pills in months actually.” I informed him.

“They were giving me the strangest dreams.” I said.

“You know, dreams about you stealing my money, forging my signature, planning to disappear with your accomplice.” I listed.

“April, I can explain,” he started, but I held up my hand.

“Oh, please do explain.” I challenged.

“Explain it all to the federal agents.” I said.

“Explain it to Sandra and Monica’s family.” I added.

“Explain it to the jury at your trial.” I finished.

I turned to the agents.

“The evidence you need is on his tablet upstairs, his computer in the office, and there’s a burner phone in his gym bag with all his communications with Victoria.” I told them.

But the best part, the absolute chef’s kiss moment, was when Brad tried to run and ran straight into Janet, who was just arriving with her overnight bag.

“Mom,” he gasped.

“Call our lawyer.” he begged.

Janet looked at him, then at the FBI agents, then at me standing there fully conscious, and her face went white.

“You were supposed to be sedated,” she blurted out, then immediately clamped her hand over her mouth.

“And there’s conspiracy charge number two,” Rebecca said, emerging from behind the agents.

“Mrs. Meyer, you’re also under arrest for conspiracy to commit fraud and elder abuse.” Rebecca announced.

Oh yeah, turns out drugging your daughter-in-law for years counts as elder abuse when you’re doing it to steal her inheritance. Who knew?

The Trial and the Verdict

The next few months were a whirlwind of legal proceedings, asset recovery, and more paperwork than I’d seen in my entire life. But the sweetest moment came during Brad’s trial when Victoria, trying to save herself, revealed everything about their operation.

They had seven victims across five states, with me being the longest running and most profitable mark. The prosecutor—not Rebecca due to conflict of interest, but her colleague—presented evidence that made the jury gasp.

Brad had kept journals, detailed notes about each woman he’d targeted. My entry started 18 years ago.

“April: inherited grandmother’s estate, estranged from family, trusting nature, responds well to authority figures.” the journal read.

“Estimated value: 3.5 million.” it noted.

“Timeline: 15 to 20 years to full extraction.” it planned.

I was literally a business plan to him, complete with quarterly projections and risk assessments. Sandra testified via video link, too fragile to travel but determined to see justice.

Monica’s sister spoke about finding her body, how the sleeping pills had been switched with a stronger dose without her knowledge. The forensic accountant presented a chart showing the money trail: over $10 million stolen across all victims, though they’d recovered about 60% of it.

My favorite moment, though—and yes, I know it’s petty, but after 18 years I earned some pettiness—was when Brad’s lawyer tried to argue that I’d been a willing participant.

“Mrs. Meyer took those pills voluntarily for years,” he said.

“She gave her husband access to their joint finances.” he claimed.

“This is a case of marital dispute, not fraud.” he concluded.

That’s when Martha, our wonderful forensic grandmother, stood up and presented her evidence.

“Actually, Mr. Meyer started drugging his wife three days before she ever saw a doctor about sleep issues,” she said.

“I have the pharmacy records showing he purchased sleeping medication using a forged prescription then used those pills to create symptoms that would lead to a legitimate prescription.” she explained.

“He created the problem then presented himself as the solution.” she concluded.

Brad got 15 years for fraud, conspiracy, and identity theft. Victoria got 12 years and deportation after serving her sentence.

And Janet, sweet concerned mother-in-law Janet, got five years for conspiracy and elder abuse, though she’ll probably be out in three with good behavior. The last time I saw her being led away in handcuffs, she had the audacity to speak.

“This is all your fault, April,” she said.

“If you just stayed asleep like you were supposed to.” she added.

I laughed. Actually laughed out loud in the courtroom, earning a stern look from the judge but sympathetic smiles from the jury.

“Stay asleep?” I asked.

“I’d been asleep for 18 years.” I told her.

“It was time to be magnificently, inconveniently, persistently awake.” I finished.