𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗽𝘀𝗲𝗱, 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗰𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀, 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁. 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝘄 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺, 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗗 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗰𝗸…

When Michael was left alone, Emily entered the room with her usual warm smile and waved at him in a friendly manner.

“Good morning, Michael Peterson! How are you feeling today?”

“I’ve been better, Emily,” he replied tiredly, gesturing toward the fruit basket. “Look what they brought me. They’re taking care of me, as you can see. Maybe you’d like an orange?”

“I’m not in the best mood.”

Emily smiled, glancing at the basket. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to take one.”

“I feel like having some oranges,” she said, picking up one of the bright, orange fruits. She sat down in the chair next to his bed, started peeling the orange, and engaged in a casual conversation with Michael, telling him about her worries at home.

“Emily, dear,” he suddenly said, thinking out loud, “there’s something strange. It seems like they care about me, but somehow, I don’t feel sincerity. Maybe it’s because of my age? Or have I simply become too suspicious?”

Emily shrugged, arranging the slices on a napkin. “You know, Mr. Peterson, people show care in different ways. Sometimes, they struggle to express their feelings.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he sighed, watching her. Emily took a slice of the orange, smiled at him, and put it in her mouth.

She didn’t even get the chance to respond when, all of a sudden, her face turned pale. She clutched her throat and collapsed into the chair. Her eyes widened, her breathing became ragged, and within seconds, she fell to the floor, unconscious.

Michael panicked, pressing the emergency button while desperately trying to wake her up.

When the medical staff rushed into the room, Michael stood frozen in terror next to Emily, who lay unconscious on the floor. The on-call doctor, a young man with thin-framed glasses, quickly knelt beside her.

“What happened?” he asked sharply, checking her pulse.

“She ate… a slice of orange,” Michael stammered, pointing to the half-eaten fruit on the nightstand. “And suddenly, she collapsed.”

An older nurse approached the fruit basket, inspecting it with suspicion.

“Where did you get these oranges, Mr. Peterson?” she asked, her gaze shifting from the fruit to the pale patient.

“They were brought to me…” Michael began, but he was interrupted by the commotion around Emily.

The medical team worked swiftly, placing her on a stretcher. The doctor checked her pupils, while another nurse prepared an emergency injection.

“It looks like a severe allergic reaction,” the doctor said. “Or…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but the dark look in his eyes said everything. Within moments, Emily was wheeled out of the room, surrounded by medical personnel, leaving Michael alone with his fears and questions.

But not for long.

Less than an hour later, two police officers entered his room. One was tall and broad-shouldered, the other shorter, with a face that looked like it had seen too much.

“Mr. Peterson,” the taller officer began, “I’m Inspector Reed, and this is my partner, Inspector Carter. We have a few questions about this morning’s incident.”

Michael nodded, feeling his mouth go dry.

“The nurse… Emily… is she okay?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

The two officers exchanged a quick glance.

“She’s stable but still unconscious,” Carter replied. “Doctors have confirmed that she was poisoned. Most likely with cyanide.”

Michael felt his blood turn to ice. “Poisoned? But how… why?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Reed said, pulling out a notepad. “Tell us about the fruit basket. Who brought it to you?”

Michael rubbed his forehead, trying to gather his thoughts.

“And no one else went near the basket?”

“Not that I noticed, but… I slept a lot. The medication, you know…”

Reed jotted something down. “We’ll need to speak with your wife.”

“Of course,” Michael said, reaching for the phone on his nightstand. “I’ll call her right now.”

But when he dialed Sarah’s number, he got her voicemail. He tried again. And again. Same result.

“Strange,” he muttered. “She usually answers right away.”

Carter frowned. “When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“Last night, when she brought the basket. She said she had a business meeting this morning, but it should have been over by now.”

The two inspectors exchanged another long, meaningful glance.

“Mr. Peterson,” Reed said carefully, “can you tell us more about your relationship with your wife? Have there been… recent tensions?”

Michael was silent for a moment, thinking about the past few months. Their marriage had been strained, that was true. After his cancer diagnosis, Sarah had seemed distant, more focused on their business than on his health. And then there were those whispered phone calls, the ones she would abruptly end when he walked into the room.

“We’ve had… difficulties,” he admitted finally. “But nothing unusual for a couple married for twenty years.”

Reed nodded understandingly. “And your estate? I assume there’s a will?”

A cold shiver ran down Michael’s spine. He was beginning to see where the questions were leading.

“Yes,” he said. “Sarah is the primary beneficiary. But that doesn’t mean…”

His voice trailed off as the hospital room door suddenly swung open.

A tall woman, around forty, with short black hair and piercing green eyes, stood in the doorway. She was dressed in an impeccable business suit and carried an expensive designer handbag.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, her gaze darting from Michael to the two police officers.

“Mrs. Peterson, I presume?” Reed asked, rising from his chair.

“Yes, I’m Sarah Peterson,” she replied, stepping into the room. “Someone from the hospital called me, saying there had been an incident. Michael, are you okay?”

Her voice sounded concerned, but her eyes remained cold.

“A nurse was poisoned,” Carter stated bluntly. “After eating an orange from the basket you brought your husband.”

Sarah froze. For a fraction of a second, her perfect expression faltered, her eyes widening in shock. Then, just as quickly, she regained her composure.

“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “I bought those oranges from the store down the street. How could they have been poisoned?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Reed remarked, watching her closely. “Strange that it was just the oranges. And even stranger that only one, apparently.”

Sarah pressed her lips into a thin line. “What exactly are you suggesting, Inspector?”

“For now, we’re just gathering information,” he replied, smiling without warmth. “But we’re going to need you to come with us to the station for an official statement.”

At that moment, the door opened again, and a tall man with graying blond hair and an equally impeccable suit stepped inside.

When everyone saw him, the entire room fell silent in shock.

“David?” Michael whispered, unable to believe his eyes.

David Lawson. Michael’s best friend. His business partner for over fifteen years. The best man at his wedding.

And, judging by the guilty look that flickered across his face when his eyes met Sarah’s, much more than that.

“What are you doing here?” Sarah asked, her voice tightening slightly.

David looked just as surprised to see her. “I got a call from the hospital,” he said, his gaze shifting to Michael. “They said there was a serious incident.”

Reed and Carter observed the exchange with growing interest.

“Mr….?” Reed prompted.

“Lawson. David Lawson,” he replied, extending a hand. “I’m a friend and business partner of Michael’s.”

“And apparently, very concerned for his well-being,” Carter noted, eyeing the tension in the room.

Michael looked at them both, a painful realization forming in his mind. The pieces were starting to fit together—the whispered phone calls, David’s unexplained business trips, Sarah’s increasing coldness.

“For how long?” he asked suddenly, his gaze locked on them.

Neither Sarah nor David answered, but the guilt in their eyes spoke volumes.

“For how long have you two…?” Michael’s voice broke, unable to finish the question.

The tension in the room was palpable. The inspectors exchanged knowing looks.

“I think this situation is becoming more and more interesting,” Reed said. “Mrs. Peterson, Mr. Lawson, we’re going to need you both to come with us to the station.”

Michael watched helplessly as the two people he had trusted most were escorted out of the room. His mind struggled to process everything—his illness, the betrayal, and now… the possible attempted murder.

But then a darker thought crossed his mind.

The orange that had poisoned Emily wasn’t meant for her. It was meant for him.

And who had more reason to want him dead than his unfaithful wife and the best friend who had betrayed him?

As the hospital room door closed behind them, Michael turned toward the window overlooking the hospital garden. Outside, it was a beautiful summer day, full of life and color.

A life he had nearly lost.

And now, between cancer and betrayal, he wasn’t sure which hurt more.

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