The Poisoned Prelude

Stepping into Richmore Tower's magnificent ballroom, I could hear my heart thudding in time. It was meant to be a celebration tonight—the result of years of effort and commitment. But something seemed odd as I looked about the room, the air heavy with expectation and enthusiasm.

"Darling Richard, you look positively radiant tonight!" Next to me chirped Emily, my assistant, her smile as brilliant as the chandeliers overhead.

With a forced smile of my own, I said, "Thanks, Emily." Beneath the surface, though, was a nervousness. Too many things may go wrong and too many unknowns existed. And the anxiety just became worse with every second that went by.

The more the evening went on, the more people I recognized—friends, investors, and business partners. But in the middle of the jokes and banter, I couldn't get rid of the sense of approaching disaster that loomed large over the space.

It happened then. The instant that everything would change.

I looked horrified as the glass dropped from my grasp and shattered dreams all around me. Fright gripped my chest and my throat, and the world around me became chaotic.

Richard! Are things OK with you?" Emily had wide, worried eyes when her voice broke through the fog.

As I tried to tell her that everything was OK, the words seized in my throat like glass fragments. My limbs heavy with an awareness of approaching disaster, my eyesight swam.

After that, night.

Oh my god, Richard, what happened? Emily said. In good health?

Richard: *failing to talk* I'm not sure. I sense....

Emily: *Trystically* Someone dial an ambulance! Richard has to be helped!

First visitor: What is going on? He seems alright.

Guest 2: Is he suffering a heart attack, o my god?

Emily: *trying to remain composed* Not sure. Suddenly he passed out.

Is there anything we can do, Guest 3 asks, running over.

Emily : Would you kindly give us some room? We have to ascertain the situation.

Guest 4: *yelling* Has anyone dialed for an ambulance?

Emily: Someone is on it already. Everyone just maintain your composure.

Business Associate: Emily, what's going on? *approaches carefully*. Richard will be alright, I wonder.

Emily: That's yet unknown. His unexpected fall was all.

Family Member: Oh no, not Richard, *cries*. No way he could be ill.

Emily, please try to remain composed and let the medical experts to do their work. This will pass for us both.

Guest 5: *talking to Emily* What happened, do you know? Anything set this off?

*Reluctant* Emily, I'm not sure. Then he just... collapsed, having been OK the previous moment.

Number six guest: Unbelievably amazing. It still amazes me that Richard is having this party.

Emily: I understand that's startling. Let's, however, concentrate on getting him the assistance he requires immediately.

Richard, meantime, is comatose on the ground, his thoughts racing with shards of memories and mounting terror.

He can't get rid of the impression that this was no accident, that someone had planned this moment with evil purpose, as the mayhem around him takes shape.

And Richard swears to find out the truth at any cost as the darkness tries to swallow him.

I was resting in a hospital bed surrounded by commotion when I woke up.

As they tried to stabilize my condition, doctors and nurses raced about, their voices a far-off murmur.

Mr. Richmore, are you hearing me?

A voice cut through the mist to alert me to the person at my bedside.

A syringe in hand, Nurse Natalia leaned over me, her eyes full of worry.

What... happened? I choked out, raspy and dry in my throat.

Low and urgent, Natalia said, "You were poisoned."

"But rest assured that we will do all in our power to assist you."

My head was spinning with incredulity as the words shivered down my spine. Rancid? By whom, then? Moreover, why?

I thought something so horrible and unimaginable as Natalia was getting ready to give me another dose of medicine that my blood froze.

I said, hardly audibly, "Natalia." Could anyone else have known about the party tonight?

She looked up at me, paused, her face unreadable. "A very small number," she finally said, her voice reserved.

And I knew at that same instant.

Someone I trusted my life to had betrayed me.

Richmore: Natalia... I have something to tell you, "emotionally strained voice".

Leaning forward and softening her look, Natalia asks Richard, "What is it?" Anything you want to tell me, do.

Richmore: I've made mistakes, "hearing a trembling breath". Notable errors. And I've wounded people, people who put their faith in me.

Putting a consoling hand on his arm, Natalia said to Richard, it is alright. Everyone of us makes mistakes. That you're attempting to make things right now is what counts.

Richmore: "cries filling his eyes" I'm not sure if I can. I doubt that I merit pardon.

Natalia: softly gripping his hand...

You absolutely do, Richard. You are deserving of an opportunity to apologise and fix the hurts you have inflicted.

Richmore, you broke my voice.

Swear to me, Natalia. Tell my friends, family, and associates, please.

I apologize to them for the suffering I have caused.

Nodding gravely, Natalia

Richard, I swear. I'll see to it that they are aware of your heartfelt and current pain.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Richmore lets tears run down his cheeks.

Natalia, thank you... I appreciate your coming and your listening to me.

Natalia: blotting his tears away

I'm doing the least I can, Richard. Not just you are going through this. It will pass for us both.

I feel incredibly cathartic when I open myself to Natalia and let my worst worries and regrets come out.

Every phrase I say seems to be a weight off my shoulders, as though telling her about my problems somehow decreases their effect.

There is a kind of acceptance and comfort in Natalia's company that I have never known.

She seems to see past the shortcomings and errors that have troubled me and accepts me for who I am at this delicate time.

As we sit in the quiet hospital room, our confessions weighing heavily on the air, a real connection starts to develop between us.

It's an empathy- and understanding-based relationship that goes beyond words and assurances.

I see hope in Natalia's eyes among the darkness that seems ready to swallow me. It's a lighthouse pointing me across the turbulent waters of my past and toward a better, more hopeful future; it's a promise of atonement and restoration.

A loud row breaks out outside the hospital room just as Richard starts to feel comforted by Natalia.

When hurried footsteps and muffled words get closer, Natalia's countenance changes from worry to fear.

Richard, we have to leave. Urgently whispering, "Now," her gaze darts to the door.

Though I try to understand the abrupt urgency in her voice, confusion blurs my mind.

What is the situation? My heart thumping with anxiety, I urge.

But the door crashes open loudly before Natalia can answer, exposing a gang of enigmatic black individuals.

The leader announces, his voice full of menace, "Mr. Richmore, you're coming with us."

And I understand, heartbreakingly, that my problems are far from done as I look into my captors' icy, unwavering eyes.

Natalia grips my arm more tightly and looks between me and the scary people at the door. With a tremble of desperation, she says, "Richard, we have to go."

I force myself up, a million questions and anxieties whirling through my head. With whom are they? I murmur, hardly heard over the mayhem.

Natalia says, "I don't know," looking out the window as though she were assessing our possibilities of getting away. But we have to leave this place. Let's get you out of here right now."

Against the complaints of my frail body, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed with an adrenaline rush. I wave Natalia off, my resolve driving me on. She comes to help.

The group leader lifts a hand as we move closer to the entrance, indicating to his colleagues to go. He sneers, "Don't make this difficult, Mr. Richmore," his voice a poisonous hiss. "We have to take you with us," they said.

I won't, however, go down without a fight. I square my shoulders and meet their looks directly, determined now. Fear trembling in my veins, I say, "I'm not going anywhere with you," my voice hard.

Then Natalia's hand comes into mine, her fingers entwining in a quiet show of support. With resolute eyes, she says, "We'll find a way out of this, Richard."

But as I muster the strength to resist our captors, an abrupt agony pierces my chest, robbing me of my breath. I triple over, choking on air as darkness seems ready to swallow me again.

Richard, he said. My own heartbeat is thumping so loudly that Natalia's voice seems miles away.

Then, horrifyingly, I get it.

The poison, which had almost killed me, wasn't supposed to kill me.

It was supposed to make me weaker, more exposed.

I can only pray that Natalia and I will make it out of this nightmare alive as I collapse to the ground and am at the mercy of those who tried to hurt me.