The following day, Roxanne sat on the big bed with her hands fitted into fists on her lap.

The earlier events pressed down on her like an heavy weight. It was suffocating.

The experience left her a bit shaken. She wondered what would have happened if Ciel had not stopped her from drinking from that cup at the event.

Ciel was standing by the window across the room. His figure was outlined against the city skyline. His hand was in his pockets, but his wife could see that he was tensed.

The silence between them was thick.

After awhile, he finally asked.

“Who did it?”

She did not say anything,...