Forced Into Insanity

Chapter 6: Workaholic

— Francesca —

My own fucking friend going after my brother. Is he expecting that I won't catch on? How dumb does he think I am? I go over to my desk and chug two pills. My eyes look around the room and land on the letter from good 'ol stalker, honestly, I'm not scared to read it only because I have much more to worry about than a stalker who thinks he's in the 1800s sending random ass letters.

It hits me, the guy who was chasing Gabriel and I back at the restaurant. I never got a good look at him but he's probably the same guy who's sending me this letter. Question is, is stalker someone I know? It must be because it can't just be a random customer out of their mind, right?

But then...who patched me up?

Not now, Heart, just read the damn letter, it's probably important.

My hands shake slightly but I manage to keep a steady enough grip to open the cursed envelope. A painted block of wood? It's like those tiny wood chips you find on the back of canvases except it's much bigger. The wood chip is painted a beautiful, light, moss green. My eyes linger on said wood chip. It's..odourless? But I feel dizzy..I quickly open a window and place the wood chip on the ledge.

I immediately pull out my bromine and all the spare thermometers I keep. I break open one and mix it with the bromine. I leave it for a few minutes and sure enough, it turns yellow within twenty minutes.

Arsenic.

Arsenic treated lumber.

How did they obtain arsenic? It's illegal to even buy unless you have an official licence or you work in a chemical plant or something.

I look closer,

Olivenite. It's pure arsenic, fuck.

I immediately open my cupboard and look through various bottles of paint. There! Varnish. I hurry to get a brush and dump a generous amount of clear varnish on the wood chip, I make hurried strokes and pick it up gently, careful not to touch the surface. I put the wood chip next to a random window to let the varnish dry.

So much for a crush, kill her then think later.

There was a letter beside the dreaded wood chip. Great, not only do I have to deal with fudging arsenic but now bad handwriting as well. I don't want to open it but I do anyway.

It's a typed document. Guess I don't have to deal with bad handwriting after all.

Francesca Heart, you're a chemistry teacher so I thought I'd leave you a complimentary gift.

Here's your blouse too, I have no use for it.

Huh? The man who patched me up? He's the only person who could've known about my blouse being torn but how did he know I was a chemistry teacher?

Unless..oh god.

He works with me? No that's impossible, it's more likely to be a student who wants to scare me because it's the cool thing to do.

Who am I kidding? I don't know who's doing this but they're clearly not pulling some random prank. I still think it's a student though. I've worked at Lavigne Garnier ever since I graduated why would a fellow co-worker want to sabotage me and why now? They certainly would have tried to ruin my life much earlier on. It doesn't make sense. It must be a student but..who? I don't even remember half their names.