Caged

Part 8- Slip it in the Tea

Her mind flashing back to her Judgment and the way her handler had knocked on the door, she sat up and screamed, clutching the blanket to her.

Micheal hurried inside, sitting down at the edge of her bed. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? What's wrong?" he fired a hundred questions of at once. Instead of answering him, she trembled as tears fell down her face.

"I was wrong," he murmured, moving toward her and pulling her closer to him so that her head lay on his chest. "This is too much for you. I'll arrange for a car to pick you up and take you to be with your brother. I cannot ask you to do this."

She shook her head, grabbing at the front of his shirt. "I don't want to go!" she exclaimed, her eyes swollen and puffy. "Arabelle," he murmured, petting the top of her head. "It's safer for you to be far away."

Arabelle shook her head again as she began to sob uncontrollably. It seemed that the stress of all the past events came pouring out at that moment. Her Judgement, the deal, leaving her home, dealing with Micheal- everything bubbled up at once.

She cried for a good hour, until her body ceased convulsing and she simply laid in her bed.

"I'll be fine," she sniffled, pulling the blanket to her chin. "Just give me another hour." 

Micheal, although he remained concerned about her safety, smiled at his wife. "You stay up here today. I'll tell him you started feeling sick last night," Micheal told her, patting her shoulder. 

She didn't reply. She merely buried her head underneath the blanket and drifted off. 

"Sleep well," Micheal muttered as he shut off the light and closed the door to her bedroom. 

He hurried down the stairs as he planned his actions. Jacqueline scurried beside him with her head bowed. "The tea and coffee are ready," she informed him, unaware of his plans. "Thank you very much," Micheal pictured himself walking into the kitchen and emptying the vial of poison into the beverages. 

Before moving into the kitchen, he patted his handkerchief against his forehead. "That'll be all," he murmured before stepping forward, grabbing the vial from his pocket. 

As he emptied half of it into the tea and the other half into the coffee, he heard the door to Arabelle's room creak open. 

"Hello there," he greeted her, feeling himself warm up at the sight of her. "Are you...doing it?" she asked him, pointing at the teapot resting open in front of him. Micheal nodded as he took the vial, wrapped it in a napkin, and stomped his foot down on it. 

"Toss this in the fire would you?" he held the cloth napkin out towards Arabelle, who swiftly snatched it and hurled it into the flames. "Sorry," she apologized as she wiped her hands against her blouse. "I still feel a little...jumpy thinking about it." 

Micheal stepped around the counter so that he could stand directly in front of her. "Look how brave you are," he muttered, kissing the top of her head and laying his hand softly on her cheek. He waited for her to move or push him away, but she didn't shift an inch. "You look so strong, so amazing."

There was a sudden knock at the door, interrupting their moment. "This is it," he grabbed her by the hand and led her to the door as Marie swung it open. 

President Mark Evanger stood before them, beaming and straightening his suit. "Good day son," he shook hands with Micheal and then glanced at Arabelle. "And to you too." 

Arabelle gave him an award winning smile, but inside, she was pushing him to the floor, her hands around his throat. 

"Won't you come in?" Micheal pulled out a chair, offering it to his father. Mark sat down and folded his hands on the table. "Oh, I forgot to tell you," he pointed at Micheal. "I've decided that I'm going to step down this Friday and allow you to  take over Monday morning."