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The arrival at the hospital emergency department was a chaotic blur of sliding doors, bright fluorescent lights, and shouted medical terms. Shuyin, still in her stained silk gown, was a ghost at the periphery as a team of nurses and doctors swarmed around the gurney, rushing her grandmother through double doors marked 'RESUSCITATION ROOM, AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY'.
A nurse gently but firmly guided Shuyin to a waiting room. Time warped by, and the clock on the wall seemed to freeze.
She paced across the small, sterile room, the scent of antiseptic burning her nostrils. Each time the doors swung open, her heart would leap into her throat, only to sink again when it wasn't her doctor.
After what felt like an eternity, a doctor in blue scrubs emerged, his face a mask of grim professionalism. "Miss Lin?"
Shuyin rushed forward, her entire body trembling, "Is she...? How is she?"
"I'm sorry. We did everything we could. She suffered a massive cardiac arrest. We were unable to revive her."
The words didn't make any sense to her. They were just sounds. Shuyin stared at him, waiting for the real news, the news that her Popo was stable and feeling better. The doctor's expression didn't change.
"It's the 'shock'," he said, more to a nurse than to her. "We need to run some standard toxicology tests as part of the protocol, given the suddenness of her passing away."
Shuyin was led to a different, quieter room where she sat, numb, as forms were placed in front of her. She signed them without reading. Hours ticked by. The shock began to recede, leaving a raw, gaping wound of grief.
It was early in the morning when the atmosphere changed. The doctor returned, but this time, two uniformed police officers flanked him. Their presence was a cold shock to the stifling room.
"Miss Lin," the doctor began, his voice now heavy with something more than professional regret. "The initial toxicology report has come back. It indicates the presence of a rare, slow-acting toxin in your grandmother's system. It would have built up over several days, severely stressing her heart."
Shuyin stared, uncomprehending. "A... a toxin?"
One of the officers stepped forward. "We've reviewed the hospital's pharmacy records. It shows you collected a refill of your grandmother's heart medication three days ago. Is that correct?"
"Yes, but I...."
"The lab analysis suggests a lethal interaction between that specific medication and the poison we found," the doctor interjected quietly.
The truth, warped and weaponized, slammed into her. Her simple act of care had been twisted into a premeditated act. She was the dutiful granddaughter who ran errands, who was always there, Now, that very devotion was the cornerstone of the case against her.
"You were the last person with her before the medical event," the officer stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You had the means and the opportunity to commit the deed. Miss Lin, you are under arrest on suspicion of murder."
The cold, hard metal of the handcuffs snapped around her wrists. The sound was final, a metallic period at the end of her life. She was too shattered, too trapped in this nightmare to even struggle as they led her away. She looked back once, down the long, white hallway that now felt like a tunnel to hell.
Betrayed by her fiancé. Abandoned by her family. Framed for the murder of the only person she ever loved. Lin Shuyin was now completely, utterly alone in the dark.
The moment Shuyin was led out of the hospital, a storm of flashing lights and shouting voices erupted. Dozens of reporters and paparazzi swarmed the entrance, their cameras clicking like a swarm of mechanical insects.
"There she is! The socialite who killed her own grandmother!"
"Lin Shuyin! Did you do it for the inheritance?"
"Look this way! How does it feel to be a murderer?"
Microphones were thrust in her face as the officers pushed a path through the chaotic crowd. Shuyin kept her head down, the handcuffs digging into her wrists, but the cameras still caught her tear-streaked face and disheveled appearance. She was the perfect picture of a fallen angel, beautiful, broken, and guilty.
The media circus continued at the courthouse. The trial was rushed through the system at an unprecedented speed. Her court-appointed lawyer seemed overwhelmed and unprepared, constantly fumbling with documents and objecting too late.
The prosecution presented a seemingly airtight case: pharmacy records showing she picked up the medication, "witnesses" from the household staff who testified about her "strange behavior" lately, and even financial records suggesting she stood to inherit a portion of her grandmother's estate. Most damning was the "discovery" of a mysterious vial found hidden in her bedroom, a vial that matched the toxin found in her grandmother's system.