Chapter 1194

"No, that can't be right!" Hannah shook her head, frowning. "If she wasn't poisoned, why didn't she fight back when I slapped her? With her temper, she wouldn't have endured it! She must have been feigning composure earlier! I swear she's poisoned!"

"But just now, did you see...?" Ralph's gaze fell on the broken bed frame. The truth was evident. If Heather were poisoned, she wouldn't have had the strength to break the bed frame. "I'm certain she's pretending. In our deal, I was supposed to steal the handbook, but she did it herself. Think about it—she's so cautious; how could she not realize you were going to poison her? She's pretending for some other reason!"

"What kind of reason?" Hannah asked immediately.

"Well..." Ralph hesitated. He had misjudged the situation. He couldn't fathom Heather's—or Alexander's—thinking, and consequently suffered repeated setbacks. He believed he controlled the game, but he was merely a pawn.

"No, she must be lying about not being poisoned. Ralph, I didn't lose to her. I didn't lose..."

Their disagreement was irreconcilable. Ralph sighed, gazing out the dark window. They had lost badly.

Hannah was right; Heather was seriously poisoned. After leaving the basement, Heather stopped after a few steps, leaning against a wall. Chump, having locked the door and followed her, found her there, puzzled. "Ms. Riggs?"

As he spoke, she lowered her head and spat blood—darker than usual, a clear sign of poisoning. "Ms. Riggs!"

"Shut up!" she hissed, weak but sharp. "What are you panicking about?"

"You..." Chump was surprised. He'd assumed she was fine after seeing her destroy the bed frame. Heather was brilliant, unpredictable. Her actions, however, suggested she wasn't well.

"I'm poisoned!" she whispered. "Don't tell anyone. No one knows she replaced me, right?"

"She's been impersonating you, but her behavior has raised some suspicions. No one knows for sure yet," Chump replied.

He'd rushed home for help, injured himself in the process, and learned of Hannah's machinations, but had no time to address them. Saving Heather was his priority, an opportunity arising from her planned return to the Riggs residence.

"Good!" Heather nodded. "Help me to my room."