The mass poisoning at Adkins Windsor's funeral became a major news story, sparking intense public interest.
That afternoon, Ivy and Jamison's phones rang off the hook. Friends and family called one after another, anxiously asking if they were okay.
"I saw the videos and pictures online. It looked like something out of a zombie apocalypse. So terrifying, especially in a funeral home. I'm so glad you and Dr. Ludwig are safe," Katrina Lester said over the phone, her voice still trembling with fear.
The memory of the scene sent a shiver down Ivy's spine. At the time, she had been too focused on saving people and confronting Hawley to feel any fear. It was only now, in retrospect, that the true horror of it all sank in—especially the thought of that poisoned cup of tea sitting right beside her.
"Yes, a lot of people were poisoned," Ivy confirmed. "The hospital found it was mercury poisoning. Six people are in critical condition and still in the ICU, and about thirty others with milder symptoms are under observation."
Jamison had called for an update on their way back from the funeral home. Local media outlets were all covering the story, and it was spreading like wildfire online through blogs and social media.
"Oh my God," Katrina breathed, horrified. "What kind of people did Emma associate with? He didn't just want to die; he wanted to take a bunch of people with him. I think he was just using ‘revenge for Emma' as an excuse to lash out at the world."
"Perhaps," Ivy murmured. "A difficult upbringing can twist a person's mind. It's possible his real motive was to attack society." She remembered how he kept ranting about how "no rich person was any good." That kind of class resentment didn't develop overnight.
Fortunately, the police had successfully apprehended him. Arson, vehicular sabotage, public endangerment, and now mass poisoning—the charges would pile up. He was facing life in prison at the very least, possibly even the death penalty.
With the threat that had been lurking in the shadows finally gone, she and Jamison both felt a profound sense of relief.
The Ludwig family also called repeatedly to check on them. By the time they had reassured all their friends and relatives, the afternoon was gone.
It was after nine in the evening when Jamison returned from the hospital.
Ivy was still awake, propped up in bed reading a book. When her husband came in, she got up to take the overcoat he was shrugging off and hung it on the valet stand.
"The Windsors are in deep trouble this time," Jamison said quietly, rolling up his shirt sleeves.
Ivy turned from the coat rack. "What do you mean? Are the police holding them responsible?"



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