The young man seated in front of the bearded kid—the one sitting with a young woman at the first table in the first row—suddenly began coughing, roughly and violently.
"Babe!" the young woman cried, springing to her feet. "What's wrong?"
Both her face and voice revealed a whirlwind of emotions: fear, anxiety, and confusion.
The young man opened his mouth as though to speak, but only a harsh, guttural cough emerged. The young woman reached out to assist him, but—to everyone's surprise—he pushed her hands away.
"Nothing's wrong," he managed to say, with difficulty. His words shocked all of us.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her confusion now clearly dominating her voice and expression.
He glared at her, eyes bloodshot. "It's what I wanted."
The room fell into deep confusion, with the young woman as its chief victim. Before she could respond, she too began coughing violently.
Every eye in the dining room turned toward the couple.
The waitress had just returned from the kitchen, holding two plates of raw tomatoes. She placed them on the table without looking—her attention now fully consumed by the unfolding drama.
"This food we're having is poisonous mushrooms," the young man declared. "I ordered it deliberately… because I want to die. Life has been too cruel to me."
His revelation struck everyone dumb—including me. I supposed the room fell under the weight of collective disbelief.
"What— why would— why did you let me eat it too?" the woman choked out. She might have asked more, but her voice kept breaking.
"You said you'd eat whatever I eat."
When I heard that, I blinked twice in a row.
"I can't believe this," she said, shaking her head. "I love you, Leinad. I thought you loved me too."
"I do," he replied softly.
"I love you so much," she continued. "I've gone to great lengths just to be with you. I busted my gut getting you permanent residency. I found you a good job. Because of this relationship, I almost got disowned by my family. I love you."
"I love you too," he interjected, his face trembling.
Then she snapped. "Why the hell would you let me eat something poisonous?"
She broke into pitiful sobs. "I don't even like these mushrooms. I only eat them because you do. I love you—"
"Not that much!" Leinad suddenly shouted. "You think I don't know what kind of whore you are? Don't take me for a fool. I know the filthy things you do. I know you sleep with your boss and your colleagues."
The woman opened her mouth to respond—but instead, vomit erupted from her throat, splashing all over the place. Her golden African designer dress was ruined. Tears streamed down her face.
At the same time, Leinad lost his balance and collapsed. His face slammed brutally against the table, leaving a wide, dark splash of blood on the black-and-white tablecloth.
The first time I saw the black and white tablecloth on our round table, I suspected it to be a racist setup by Mah. But a moment later, I realized all the tables had identical black-and-white cloths, arranged in such a way that each round table had a black semicircle and a white semicircle.
Coincidentally—or perhaps not—the black semicircle was on my side.
The young woman wasn't in any better condition. It was quite clear she would follow suit at any moment. And, speak of the devil, she staggered and lost all balance.
Fortunately—if fortune could exist in misfortune—she fell into the arms of an elderly security guard. He barged in with his junior colleague just in time to serve as a temporary puppet savior. The two security personnel, clad in all black, had been stationed outside near the entrance. I now knew for sure that the heavy dark doors weren't soundproof, and yet, I still couldn't fathom why no noise from the busy streets outside ever reached us.
"We need to take them to the hospital as soon as possible," the senior guard ordered, as the junior picked up the incapacitated Leinad and hoisted him over his shoulder.
If they hadn't arrived when they did, I guessed someone else among the diners might have stepped forward to help. People had seemed ready to act. As for me, I rarely got involved in such incidents—I reckoned that was something I needed to change.
While the guards dragged the couple away, I caught sight of the woman's mouth moving. At first, I thought she was just gasping, but soon I realized she was mumbling—her voice somehow distinct in my ears, as though she were whispering directly to me.
"I did. I slept with my boss," she murmured. "I made a spontaneous mistake. I sinned—and it haunts me. I regret it all the time. You must know I'm not a whore. I love you, Leinad. I'll always love you."
A shiver ran down my spine.
"They won't make it," said the waitress, her voice pulling me back to reality. "The poison they ate is particularly lethal—vicious. They can't last an hour. No medication can save them."
She glanced at her wristwatch. Instinctively, I looked over Mah's shoulder at the wall clock. 12:17.
"You sell poisonous food?" I asked, looking up at her inquisitively.