Chapter 2

The cops showed up in no time.

The moment two uniformed officers walked in, the tension in the room spiked.

Jason and Vera were called back and stood at the foot of my bed, both looking like they'd just seen a ghost. Vera, especially, had panic written all over her face. Her flawless makeup couldn't hide it. She kept nervously fiddling with that silver charm bracelet on her wrist.

Since the tube was still in my throat and I couldn't speak, my attending physician, Bruce Matthews, spoke for me instead.

He broke it down for everyone—from when I was rushed into the ER, through the whole rescue, to the test results confirming industrial-grade capsaicin in the "Devil's Kiss."

"So that's the situation. From a medical standpoint, this whole thing put Ms. Allen's life in real danger." Bruce wrapped up.

The older officer fixed Jason and Vera with a stern look. "You heard the doctor. This is no longer just a harmless prank. We need you both to come down to the station and help with the investigation."

Vera wobbled, her voice going high-pitched. "Why? I already said I didn't mean it. She was the one who insisted on drinking it, trying to act tough. How is that my fault?"

"Yeah, officer," Jason jumped in, desperate to defend himself. "We were just playing a game. If she couldn't handle it, she should've just said no. Nobody forced her."

I just stared at him, stone-faced.

It was a weak excuse, and a cruel one.

Sure enough, the younger officer pulled out his phone and played a video.

The video showed a noisy karaoke room, Jason slinging his arm around my shoulder, laughing loudly, "Vera made this drink just for you. You're not really gonna refuse, are you?"

Then the camera shifted to Vera, snuggling up to him, her voice all sweet and teasing. "Jason, your girl isn't a party pooper, is she?"

Everyone was hyping it up, laughing and making a scene.

The video was short, but it made everything crystal clear.

My roommate and best friend, Chloe Reed, had been smart enough to secretly record it. She'd sensed something was off and had the foresight to catch it on camera.

I'd messaged her to send it over before the cops showed up.

Jason's and Vera's faces went ghostly pale when they saw the video.

"This..." Jason stammered, "This doesn't prove we meant to hurt her!"

"Intent is for the courts to decide," the older officer said, putting his phone away, his voice firm. "Right now, your job is to cooperate."

When Vera realized there was no way out, she suddenly began to beg me bitterly.

She said, "Cathy, I messed up. I'm so sorry! Please, just forgive me this once. I'm begging you. Just tell them it was all a prank. Don't press charges. I can't have this on my record. I'm supposed to study abroad."

She was bawling her eyes out, acting like she was the victim here.

Jason snapped out of it and rushed to my bedside, grabbing my hand, his voice frantic. "Cathy, look. Vera's begging you. Can't you just let it go and forgive her? We promise it'll never happen again. You don't want to blow this up, right? We're all friends here."

I stared at the two of them acting like their little performance was actually real.

If I hadn't lived through it myself, I might've actually believed their act.

I struggled to lift my hand and pulled the tube out of my mouth.

After a rough coughing fit, I finally managed to speak, my voice cracked and hoarse.

"Get out," I said, clear and cold.

Jason froze, totally shocked that I, usually so soft-spoken, would say something like that.

Vera looked up at me, tears streaming down her face, but I caught a flash of hate in her eyes.

I didn't even bother with them. I turned to the cops, forcing out every word with all the strength I had. "Officer, I... insist... on pressing charges."