The room was thick with tension. Isabel lay on the floor, her breathing shallow, her lips pale. The staff scrambled around her, calling for a doctor, while Duke stood protectively near her, growling low in his throat.
Moris' gaze locked onto Sarah, and for the first time since he had known her, he saw something unsettling in her eyes—fear.
Not fear for Isabel.
Fear of being caught.
"You were in the kitchen," Moris repeated, his voice controlled but laced with anger.
Sarah's mind raced. She had to think fast.
"I—I was just preparing dessert for you," she stammered, trying to regain her composure. "Why would I hurt Isabel?"
Pierre stepped forward, his face tight with suspicion. "The food was fine when I prepared it. No one else touched it—except you, Miss Whitmore."
Murmurs spread among the staff. Sarah felt her grip slipping.
She needed to turn this around.
Taking a deep breath, she let her eyes fill with tears. "You think I would do this?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "After everything? I just wanted to surprise you, Moris."
Moris' jaw tightened. He didn't respond.
Isabel groaned softly, trying to sit up. Moris immediately knelt beside her, his hand supporting her back.
Duke licked Isabel's hand, whimpering.
Sarah's stomach twisted at the sight.
"Isabel," Moris said gently. "Can you tell me what happened?"
Isabel blinked, still weak. "I—ate my food. Then I felt… dizzy." Her eyes flickered toward Sarah.
Sarah's heartbeat slammed against her ribs.
She needed to act now.
"I think I know what happened," she blurted out. All eyes turned to her. She put on her most convincing look of concern. "Pierre, are you sure everything you used was fresh? Maybe something was expired?"
Pierre's eyes flashed with indignation. "I would never serve spoiled food!"
Sarah turned to Moris. "Then someone else must have done this. Someone who wants to frame me." She hesitated, then looked at Isabel. "Maybe someone who wanted attention."
A gasp rippled through the room.
Isabel's head snapped up, her face filling with anger despite her weakness. "You think I poisoned myself?"
Sarah shrugged, feigning sympathy. "I don't want to believe it, but… Moris, think about it. Why would I hurt her? She's the one who's been trying to turn you against me."
Moris didn't respond right away. A flicker of uncertainty passed through his eyes.
Sarah pressed on. "And Duke—he's been aggressive toward me. Maybe Isabel trained him to react that way." She turned to the crowd, painting herself as the victim. "It's been clear for a while that Isabel doesn't like me. Maybe she wanted to make me look bad."
Duke let out a sharp bark, as if rejecting her words.
Moris exhaled, rubbing his temple. He was torn. He had known Isabel for a short time, but he trusted her. Sarah, on the other hand… something wasn't adding up.
"I'll decide what to do once the doctor arrives," he finally said. His tone was neutral, but the trust in his eyes was gone.
Sarah clenched her fists.
This wasn't over.
Not yet.
The Doctor's Verdict
Half an hour later, Dr. Reynolds, the family physician, arrived. After examining Isabel, he confirmed what everyone already suspected.
"She was poisoned," he said grimly. "But the dose wasn't enough to be fatal. It was meant to weaken her."
A hush fell over the room.
Moris turned to Sarah. "You were the only one near the food, Sarah."
Sarah swallowed hard. "Moris… you can't think I did this."
Moris stared at her for a long moment. "I don't know what to think anymore."
His voice was quiet. But it was enough.
Sarah felt the shift in the air.
She was losing.
She needed a new plan.
And this time, she wouldn't leave room for failure.
Isabel had to disappear—for good.