BEATRICE

WHEN I left the balcony and returned to the living room, Cole stood and walked past me, making his way to the stairs. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he was uncomfortable around me. Aside from Sir Zafra, I was the only one in the room who knew about his alleged drug use.

Then there was Anastacia, seated on the couch as she was browsing on her phone. Once in a while, I looked at her sideways, my eyes transfixed on her lips. They shared the same color as the stain on Sir Zafra's lips.

I clenched my fists. There was no doubt that the two shared a kiss. I could not think of any other explanation on why and how Sir got that deep red stain. His lips were not bleeding. Maybe just a friendly kiss? No. If that was the case, she should have kissed him on the cheeks, not on the lips.

What a flirt. She was hitting at two men at the same time. She should have left Sir Zafra alone, and have stuck with Cole. Those two seemed to be quite close, and one could not blame me for thinking that they might be a couple already. They came to this house together. They were sometimes spotted on campus together.

Oh, speaking of Cole. Maybe Anastacia knew if he was a user. Maybe she saw him actually using. Of course, she would not tell me honestly, but I could observe her reaction and see if she had any idea.

"You and Cole are quite close, 'no? I don't wanna sound rude with this question, but I felt like I have to ask you. Do you know if Cole is . . . doing drugs?"

It was strange to ask that question out of the blue, but I felt like I had to ask it nevertheless.

"Kung nagda-drugs man siya, ako ang unang magre-report sa kanya."

At least, she outright denied that Cole was a user, unlike the man himself who did not tell me anything—not even a simple "no." It's possible that Anastacia was covering up for him. It's also possible that she was not aware of his other hobby, if it were true.

Even Desmond, who was seated across us, could not help but share his opinion and said he would not be surprised if Cole was into drugs. I thought he was so engrossed on his phone that he was not paying attention to what we were talking about.

"He's one of the rich kids. He's friends with students who probably have drug dealers on speed dial."

"I would have known already kung user siya."

"Pero gaano mo ba siya kakilala? Alam mo ba kung ano ang pinagkakaabalahan niya kapag mag-isa lang siya?"

The conversation stopped when we heard footsteps coming from the stairs. Cole was done with his one-on-one session with Sir Zafra. Desmond was up next so he stood and climbed the stairs. The two close friends reunited, with Anastacia looking fazed. And I returned to scrolling to my social media feed.

The time for the farewell toast came. Sir Zafra told us to gather on the balcony to enjoy the evening view as we drink our wine. Cole brought the wineglasses to the table while Desmond carried the ice bucket. Sir Zafra was about to open the wine bottle, but Cole volunteered to do it instead. He made a mess by accidentally pouring some wine on the table. We had to return to the living room and continue the ceremony downstairs.

While Cole went to the kitchen to wash his hands, Desmond distributed the wineglasses to each of us before putting the tray back to the kitchen. When all was set, Sir Zafra asked me to hold his glass as he poured wine into it. My glass was up, next was Desmond's, then Stacy's, and finally Cole's. He took a groupie of us before raising our glasses. I tried to smile as wide as my lips could in that photo, but I could not. I got a lot of stuff on my mind.

Anastacia thought it was a good idea to pull a prank. She collapsed on the floor and pretended to be gasping for air. There I saw the horrified look on Sir Zafra's face. All colors left his skin as if he had seen a ghost. He rushed to her side, cradled her body into his arms, and shouted at us to call an ambulance.

There was no doubting it. He really, really cared about Anastacia. The red stain on his lips, the time they spent talking in private, and the concern for her life. Something was going on between the two. I felt heartbroken at that very moment. I could not help myself but curse at Anastacia. She should not have done that act. Not because she almost gave me a heart attack, but because a realization dawned on me.

Everything went back to normal as if nothing happened. We drank our wine and enjoyed what we did not know was the last moment with our host.

Then the most terrifying part happened.

"ACK!" Sir Zafra collapsed, his hand outstretched like he was reaching for something. This time, there was no prank. There was no acting. He was lying on his own carpet, fighting for his damn life. I remained seated on the couch, my eyes staring at the terrified look on his face. I did not know what to do. I did not know what to react.

The moment I realized what's happening was when his arm created a thud as it fell and went limp on the floor.

"He's gone," Desmond declared as he shook his head.

"ZACK!" Anastacia could not hold her tears any longer. The living room fell silent, only her cries could be heard.

I kept on staring at Sir Zafra's widened eyes and gaping mouth. There he was, lying lifeless. Silent. Dead. As my gaze lingered on him, my face was already wet with tears. I tried to wipe them off with my hands, but they would not stop from rolling down my cheeks.

Then there was silence again in the living room, like we were offering our prayers to the dead. We sat around like statues around the corpse of our mentor.

Desmond broke the silence when he took his phone out and dialed a number. He started pacing back and forth in front of us, combing his hair through his fingers.

Cole whispered at him. "Hey, ano'ng ginagawa mo?"

"Calling the cops," Desmond answered. "Kailangan nating i-report agad ang insidente na 'to sa kanila."

"Shouldn't you call an ambulance?" Anastacia asked, blankly staring at nothing. "Baka pwede pa siyang i-revive."

"Stacy, patay na si Sir, okay?" Desmond was as frank as always. "Wala na siyang pulso. Hindi na siya humihinga. Sa ganitong sitwasyon, pulis ang tinatawagan, hindi ambulansya—Hello? May gusto kaming i-report na incident sa may subdivision. We're having a party 'tapos nag-collapse ang teacher namin. Wala na siyang pulse at heartbeat . . ."

While Desmond was making a call, Cole searched for a towel and covered Sir Zafra's face with it. He then helped Anastacia stand from the floor and sit back on the couch.

"Why . . ." I muttered. My eyes looked away from the corpse. "Why did he drop dead just like that?"

"Baka inatake sa puso o sinumpong ng sakit si Sir." Anastacia's tone was as lifeless as a brick. Her voice was close to mumbling too. "O kaya baka na-trigger ang allergies niya sa kinain o inumin natin."

"No, that's impossible." I shook my head. "He didn't have any medical condition. He also wasn't allergic to anything. He maintained a healthy lifestyle. So how could he just . . ." I could not bear to finish what I was saying. It hurt so much.

"Tama si Bea," Desmond said after hanging up on the call. "Walang kahit anong sakit si Sir. Quarterly siyang nagpapa-check up sa university hospital. Nababasa ko minsan ang diagnosis niya."

"Is it possible na nalason siya?" Cole asked, his eyes casting a glance at each of us. There was a hint of suspicion in the way he looked at me and the others.

"Nalason o nilason," Desmond added. "Habang tsine-check ko ang pulso niya kanina, may naamoy akong bitter almonds galing sa bibig niya. Mapapansin n'yo ring nagiging purple na ang mga labi niya. Signs ang mga 'yon ng potassium cyanide poisoning."

Cole sniffed. "Wala naman akong maamoy na almonds?"

"Hindi lahat ng tao, mapapansin ang amoy," Desmond answered. "Genetic trait kasi ang gano'ng ability. Isa 'yon sa weird talents ko."

"Pero sino?" Anastacia wondered, her eyes looking up at us. "Sino ang naglason sa kanya? Tayong apat lang ang nandito sa bahay. Kaya sino pa ba ang pwedeng—"

"Hindi pa ba obvious?" Desmond cut her words short, pushing his eyeglasses back. "Isa sa atin ang lumason sa kanya. Wala nang ibang possible explanation para sa nangyari dito."

And that revelation shocked everyone in the room, except for Desmond. It took a while for my brain to process that possibility. Really? One of us could have killed Sir Zafra? That did not make any sense! As far as I knew, we were all in good terms with Sir. He would not have extended an invitation if any of us was not cool with him. This was an exclusive party after all. Only those who mattered to him were invited.

"On the way na rito ang mga pulis," Desmond said, checking the time on his phone. "Mas mabuti kung wala munang aalis sa mga posisyon natin. Kung may isa sa ating pumatay kay Sir, gagawa siya ng paraan upang itago at itapon ang bagay na makapag-i-incriminate sa kanya."

Even if I wanted to move, I could not. My legs were shaking out of shock. My body was even too weak to stand. All I could do was to remain seated on the couch.

It took ten minutes before the police finally arrived at Sir Zafra's residence. Desmond opened the gate and led them inside. They quickly checked the body and confirmed that our host was dead. They called in the crime scene investigators who started taking photos of the corpse and the area where he lay dead.

"Meron ba kayong ginalaw sa mga gamit dito?"

"Wala po. In-advise kami ni Desmond na huwag gumalaw habang hinihintay kayo."

"Desmond?"

"'Yong tumawag po sa inyo."

"Ah! Good call kung gano'n. Walang contamination sa crime scene."

Minutes later, two men in police uniform brought in a stretcher and carefully lifted the corpse onto it. They also covered it with black cloth. My eyes intently followed them leave the house.

"Mukhang nilason ang biktima base sa kulay ng kanyang lips," a police officer noted. Looked like Desmond was right about the potassium cyanide bit. "Pero kailangan pa naming ipadaan sa autopsy ang bangkay para i-confirm ang cause of death."

If he was poisoned, then that would only mean one thing.

"Alam kong medyo late na pero pwede ba namin kayong imbitahan sa police station?" the officer asked. "Kailangan namin kayong kuhanan ng statements tungkol sa nangyari dito."

The four of us exchanged glances.

"Do you consider as suspects in the death of our instructor?" I asked.

"Suspects?" he repeated, his eyes squinting at me. "Hindi pa natin alam kung homicide o murder ang nangyari dito kaya hindi pa namin kayo pwedeng i-consider na suspects. Ayaw muna naming mag-conclude kahit na may hinala na kami kung ano ang posibleng nangyari dito. Posible rin kasing aksidente ang pagkalason niya."

"Gaano kataas ang possibility na aksidenteng malason ng lethal poison ang isang tao?" Desmond whispered, but the officer still heard him.

"You would be surprised. May ilang kaso na kaming hinawakan kung saan hindi sinasadyang nalason ang biktima. Habang hinihintay natin ang confirmation, kukuhanan namin kayo ng detalye sa station namin. Ayos ba sa inyo?"

Whether Sir Zafra was intentionally or accidentally poisoned, I wanted the truth to come to light. My companions probably thought the same, so they all agreed. We were escorted out of the house and ushered into a police car. I was at the back seat with Anastacia and Cole while Desmond was on the passenger's seat. The feeling of being seated here was eerily strange and awkward. I felt like I was a criminal being brought to the station for questioning.

Throughout the trip, we were all silent. No one dared to break that silence. Honestly I was still in shock about what happened. I was still processing and accepting the fact that Sir Zafra was dead.

My eyes raised their gaze on the rearview mirror. I looked at the faces of Anastacia and Cole, then at Desmond. Was it truly possible that one of us poisoned Sir Zafra? If yes, who could it be? Who could have killed him?

-30-

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