The vile hung limply between her fingers long after he had left.
His last words still haunted her. All evidence will point to only her? Her befuddled mind could only understand little, but it was clear that nothing was beyond such men in their pursuit for power and revenge.
She was a dead woman either way.
If she took the antidote, she would live a lie for the rest of her miserable existence, and if she didn't she would die and leave her sister, dooming herself to an eternity of pain and regret.
What was she to do?
What if the antidote wasn't really an antidote?
He'd said that if she died, the blame would shift to them, hadn't he? Were they desperate enough to save her just to save themselves?
She tried standing up from the bed but she collapsed on her knees. Her body felt heavy and limp.
The vile was still in her hand. Slowly, she laid her head on the soft rug on the floor. Her body followed suit.
Then, a knock sounded on the door.
