Robert always added exactly three drops of liquid from a small brown bottle.
He claimed it was a special herbal extract his mother had taught him to make.
That day, the bottle was empty.
So I simply left out the mysterious liquid and added a little thyme instead.
When Robert returned home, he stopped the moment he smelled the soup.
“What are you cooking?”
“Your famous soup!” I replied proudly.
The smile disappeared from his face.
“You… made it yourself?”
“Yes! Is that really so terrible?”
He approached the pot, picked up a spoon, and tasted it.
Suddenly, his hand began trembling.
The spoon fell to the floor.
“What did you put in it?” he whispered.
“Just a little thyme. Your secret ingredient was gone.”
Robert grabbed the edge of the table.
His face had turned so pale that I feared he was having a heart attack.
“Have you eaten any?”
