"Wait!"
Dorian panicked and quickly blocked Grace's path. "Grace, don't be rash! Listen to me…"
"There's nothing to talk about."
Grace sidestepped him. "I'm tired. I'm going to rest in the office for a bit. You can leave."
Looking at Grace's resolute back, a flicker of conflict crossed Dorian's eyes.
If I can't persuade you… then I'll just have to help you 'calm down.'
For your own good.
It really is for your own good.
Even if you end up hating me.
"Fine, I won't try to persuade you anymore."
Dorian suddenly relented, his tone becoming exceptionally sincere. "Don't be angry. I was too emotional just now. I know how much pain you're in."
"Go lie down in the break room. I'll get you a glass of water. You need to calm down, and we need to think this through."
Grace stopped and looked back at him.
"Fine," she replied faintly.
A few minutes later.
Dorian walked into Grace's break room with a glass of warm water.
His hand was steady, and his face wore that usual gentle smile, as if the earlier hysterical outburst had never happened.
"Here, have some water. It'll soothe your throat."
He handed the glass to Grace. "It's your favorite tea. I had them brew a fresh pot of that loose-leaf tea you like."
Grace took the glass.
The tea was the perfect temperature, the glass warm in her hands.
A faint scent of lemon wafted from it.
But beneath that fresh citrus aroma, Grace's exceptionally sharp sense of smell detected a faint, metallic bitterness.
That was… the smell of a sedative.
In that instant, Grace's heart turned to ice.

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