The Kiss of Death

"From now on, you are the prime suspect in Chester Paget's murder!" Eleanor said as she leaned on the table with both arms, her sharp gaze drilling into me.

"The lab results are out. We found sleeping pills in his bloodstream! Aren't these Diazepams yours? Tell me, why did you murder your husband?"

I froze for a moment before abruptly standing, my emotions spiraling out of control as I shouted, "That's impossible! This bottle contains Carbamazepine!

"I have bipolar disorder—why would there be Diazepam in my house?"

Anyone with basic knowledge would know that Diazepam was used to treat depression and insomnia, but it was contraindicated for bipolar patients. Using it could worsen symptoms and lead to severe adverse effects!

I reached out to grab the bottle, but Eleanor was faster. She snatched it back before I could touch it. My hand grasped at the air, and I slammed the table in frustration.

"You can't just frame me like this! You can check everything—my phone, my computer—they're all at home. I've never purchased Diazepam! Every medication I take is a legitimate prescription from my doctor for treating bipolar disorder!"

Eleanor paused, clearly taken aback. Acknowledging my history of mental illness, she softened her tone and poured me a glass of warm water.

"Calm down, and don't worry. Everything you've said will be investigated thoroughly. For now, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here and rest."

I tilted my head back, drinking most of the water in one gulp. Taking a deep breath, I tried to steady myself, lowering my gaze without saying a word.

Eleanor then left the room. Through the glass, I saw her speaking in low tones with someone outside before walking away.

It was already the afternoon of the next day when she returned.

Eleanor sat across from me, and her expression was unreadable. Even so, there was a hint of sympathy in her eyes as she looked at me.