Chapter 147
Olive collapsed into his arms. She quickly raised her eyes; his handsome face was bent over hers. Marvin! Why was he here? He lowered his handsome eyelids, his cold gaze falling on the bottle containing the mandala flower venom. “What is that?” he asked.
Olive swiftly hid the bottle in her pocket. “It’s nothing. Divine got it for me.” Though Marvin tried to remain calm, he frowned. “What do you want poison for?”
Olive, remembering Marvin's status as the youngest academician, reasoned he'd already seen her. There was no need to hide it. She scratched her itchy scalp. “Marvin, this is a private matter. You don’t need to know. I’m your sister-in-law; I only ask one thing: Don’t tell your brother.”
His expression reflected her discomfort. Olive remembered her wrist still in his grasp and tried to pull away, but he held on tighter. She imagined Elvis's furious reaction—she knew he forbade her from associating with his aunt and brother, though she didn't understand why. Grandma was right; maybe she didn't provide Elvis with a sense of security. If Elvis disliked something or someone, she should avoid it.
Numbness settled over Olive. What was Marvin doing? “Do you need help with something?” she asked suspiciously. “It’s okay,” he said, slowly releasing her wrist. He removed his jacket, saying casually, “I heard Pamela saved an old lady this morning, using a gold needle to seal an acupuncture point.”
Olive nodded. “I did too.” Marvin muttered, without looking back, “I once saw a girl use a gold needle the same way.”
Olive’s memory flashed back two years. She'd rescued a critically ill patient; a man with exquisitely beautiful hands and a scalpel had assisted. Her eyes fell on Marvin’s hands—long, slender, and white, clutched around his jacket. It was Marvin!
“It’s you!” she exclaimed. He nodded softly. “Yes.”
Olive hadn't recognized him then, focused only on the patient. She'd forgotten him entirely upon returning to LA. The world was small; they’d met two years prior.
Olive breathed deeply. “We’re intertwined by fate,” she said. A faint smile touched his lips. “And I became your sister-in-law. Pure fate!” She felt awkward, but the priority was maintaining distance from Elvis's brother, the source of his jealousy and suspicion. The smile vanished. He picked up his jacket and left.
“Did he just leave?” Olive mused, finding their temperaments peculiar. Still, she was relieved. Despite his help, their relationship felt strained.
It was late; students had gone home. Fearing discovery, Olive locked the pharmacy door, took out a test tube, and inserted the needle into her arm. The mandala flower poison seeped into her body. Elvis's illness couldn't wait. He worried about falling ill, and even more about hurting her in that state.
She put down the needle, the silence broken only by the spreading poison and the itching in her blood vessels. A headache throbbed, sweat beading on her forehead. She used a silver needle to seal an acupuncture point, slowing the poison's advance. A sound startled her. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me,” Marvin replied. Why was he back? She tried to stand, but a shrill sound pierced her eardrums, and she collapsed against him.
She covered her ears, curled in pain. Outside, Marvin heard the noise. The door was locked, but he kicked it open. Olive lay on the floor, sweat pouring from her forehead. “What’s wrong?” He knelt, took her hand, and sniffed it. “Mandala flower? Where did you get it? Why are you using it? Olive, do you want to die?”
Her eyes darkened. “I’m fine.” He produced a knife, cut her finger, and pressed on her acupuncture point to accelerate detoxification. When the last drop of poison was extracted, she fainted. “Olive!” He caught her as she fell.