Property of the Mafia

[07] Poisoned

It was unbelievable.

Impossible.

Absolutely impossible.

It had to be some stupid prank or joke or something.

The look on Leon's face told otherwise. 

Damon was really... gone? We had just spoken to him moments ago. He had been so lively, so energetic, so playful---and now he was... gone? Leon's closest friend?

A few days passed, and with the pain and shock still in mind, we were now attending his funeral.

It was hard to believe that the person I had just met was now being lowered into a coffin at his funeral.

The entire Sangria family was there to pay their respects. Some cried. Some revolted in anger. Some pleaded for Damon to wake up. Some mourned his passing in silence. A man they had all known and cherished as a brother was now gone. I had not even known the man and I felt miserable. I could not even begin to imagine what the others felt---especially Leon.

I silently stood at his side as he held back tears, cursing under his breath to catch the culprit and making an oath before his friend's body. The look on his face as his attention shifted to Damon's lifeless body was unbearable. Unable to stand it, Leon turned away after paying his respects. He pushed his way through the crowd, and the rest of the family could only let him pass through. They knew how close the two had been. Even I had sensed that they had resembled brothers when I had met him.

"Leon..." I called out hesitantly, hoping to at least provide some comfort for him. He seemed to be acting strong when what he really needed was to just break down and cry now. I gently placed my hand on his arm, but he brushed it off softly, smiling at me sadly.

"Sorry, hon, if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone for a while." Leon nodded softly, still trying to stay strong with a false smile on his face. He lowered his eyes and left the funeral procession briskly, disappearing into the forest behind us. 

It had been a week since they had discovered his body in his room.

It had felt like only yesterday.

A figure hovered next to me, and I looked up at him. 

"Damon died from intoxication." Marcel mumbled, folding his arms across his chest. "Probably our "deadly nightshade" at work here, again." He scribbled down angrily, scrawling a few more notes in illegible writing.

"But his room didn't have the smell, right? It's pretty hard to cover that smell up." I retorted.

"That's true, but they've found traces of it in his stomach contents. He ingested it directly." Marcel added. "Probably snuck it into some of his food, or something." He explained, before his face lit up with surprise.

"...Didn't you have some of his breakfast that morning?" He remarked with intrigue.

 My eyes widened.

"I did. Then how am I okay?" I stammered, holding my stomach with fear.

"No, this could help us determine the cause of death, Linette." Marcel exclaimed, his eyes ecstatic. The audience glared at us for a moment, and Marcel lowered his voice again. "Would you mind telling me the specifics of his breakfast? And what you ate and what you didn't eat?"

"Of course. If it helps us find the culprit, I'm up for anything." I insisted, trying to recall what I had eaten. Marcel stared at me with anticipation.

"Okay, well, um, there was the usual... like ham, bacon, eggs, a slice of toast, a couple tomatoes...? There was nothing really out of place, I guess... I had a few bites of everything... but...oh!"