_The perfect crime—or so I thought._

Suddenly, he gasped. In the midst of silence, there was an abrupt, raspy cough that filled the room. Everyone whipped their heads in his direction, and so did I, watching with feigned horror as he choked.

Others ran to his side, attempting every procedure they could think of, but soon he fell limp in their hands and collapsed onto the cold floor, along with the broken shards of glass from his cup. The glass that still glittered with alcohol. I held down a smirk forming on my lips at the sight.

But, sooner than I’d imagined, a foolish, young little man caught on, screaming, “Poison!”. At the sound of that word, my heart dropped, my fears settled in. “Poison in his lungs! From the cup!”

At once, I left a singular dollar on the bar table, and fled the twin doors, breaking into a sprint. I didn’t look back—-_I got my revenge._