He looked at his phone, turned pale, then quickly left the room. She watched him, smiling.

"Phase 1 is complete." She said with a singsong voice.

She kept on making an apple pie, with a twist. Everyone loves cinnamon, but poison... oh, it's a much more excellent apple pie spice for Mister Smith.

Oh, she was going to get him back for everything he'd done. That text... well, that's just the beginning! She's going to have to place the poison receipt on him. She'd already paid with his card, so everything's almost done. 

She put the apple pie in the oven and waited. 

By the time Mister Smith was back, the oven bell rang.

She served him with a smile as he told her about the dreadful thing he'd just experienced - a text from the bank telling him that all his assessments had been transferred to some account in Buenos Aires and they cannot get the money back.

Little did he know that that account was hers.

Oh, and his money and life cannot repay all the hurt he'd done to her. He killed her mother with his bare hands, and made it seem as her father was the culprit, throwing him in jail. And then kidnapped her. Made her his servant. He shouldn't have given her access to the internet. 

He's going to eat the apple pie, die and she's going to bail her father out of jail and go to Buenos Aires, start a new life. Leave this messed up small English town behind.

Alas, she served him the pie. He collapsed in an instant. 

She called the ambulance and put on her best act.

The post-mortem happened, poison. The receipt, found in his pocket. So it must've been suicide. 

And so she left, started her new life with a corpse in her closet.