The Chemist's Conundrum

Chapter Five: Day Five

When James woke up, the sun was already high in the sky, casting a harsh light across his living room. His head throbbed with a dull, relentless pain, and his mouth was dry as sandpaper. The clock on the wall read eleven in the morning. Groaning, he slowly sat up, feeling every bone in his body protest. His stomach churned violently, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep whatever was left inside him down.

He reached for his phone, still half-dazed. Unlocking it, he instinctively went to his messages to text Ava, but as soon as he opened the app, his heart skipped a beat. Every single message was gone. Not just from Ava, but all of them. Panic started to bubble up in his chest as he frantically swiped through his phone. Contacts, photos, notes—everything had been wiped clean.

He forced himself to stand, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over him. His stomach lurched again, and he barely made it to the sink before vomiting violently. He clutched the edge of the counter, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to process what had happened. His mind was a mess, tangled with the remnants of last night’s chaos.

With trembling hands, he turned on his laptop, hoping that maybe it was just his phone that had been tampered with. But as soon as the screen flickered to life, his worst fears were confirmed. His desktop was bare, all his files gone. Every folder, every document, every picture—erased. The videos, the photos of Cate—all gone.

He sat back in his chair, his heart pounding in his chest. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he tried to make sense of it all. Images flashed in his mind—Ava at the party, the way she had seemed so off, how she had clung to him, crying. He remembered waking up to the police knocking on his door, their accusations that Ava had hurt him.

His brain felt like it was on fire, a whirlwind of memories, half-formed thoughts, and lingering questions. He couldn’t piece it together, but one thing was clear: Ava had done this. She had to have. There was no other explanation. She was the only one who had been close enough, who had the opportunity.

Fear and anger twisted inside him. He felt sick again, but this time it wasn’t just physical. It was the realization that he had been outplayed, used, and discarded. Ava had poisoned him—he was sure of it. She must have slipped something into his drink, or maybe it was in the food. He didn’t know, but he was convinced it was her.

With a sense of urgency, James grabbed his jacket and stumbled out of his apartment. He needed answers, but more than that, he needed help. His legs felt like lead as he made his way down the stairs, the world spinning around him. The sunlight outside was blinding, and he squinted against it, trying to keep his focus.

The walk to the hospital felt like an eternity. Every step was a struggle, his body weak and unsteady. He could barely keep his balance, and by the time he reached the emergency room, he was drenched in sweat, his clothes sticking to his skin.

Inside, the sterile smell of the hospital hit him like a wave, and he staggered to the front desk, barely able to speak. The nurse took one look at him and immediately called for assistance. Within minutes, he was on a gurney, being wheeled into a treatment room. The doctors moved quickly, asking him questions he could hardly understand, let alone answer.

They drew blood, started an IV, and ran a barrage of tests. James lay there, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the fragments of the night before. He felt a hollow ache in his chest—betrayal, anger, fear—all swirling together in a toxic mix.

As the minutes ticked by, the reality of what had happened began to settle in. Ava had poisoned him. She had wiped his phone, his laptop, everything. She had destroyed the evidence, and now, she was gone. The thought of it made him want to scream, but all he could do was lie there, staring up at the fluorescent lights, feeling more helpless and alone than he ever had in his life.