Chapter 393 Can't They Poison Me After the Competition?
<Chapter>Chapter 393 Can't They Poison Me After the Competition?</Chapter>
Although Abigail's work was undeniably impressive, it fell short of securing the top prize. Abella, with a decisive air, delivered her ratings, snapping the other judges back to reality . One by one, they followed suit, delivering their own assessments.
However, Steven had been forced to leave early and thus, only nine judges were able to submit their ratings.
Isabella was taken by surprise when the points from the three rounds were tallied. She found herself, quite unexpectedly, crowned as the winner. The first runner-up was another French contender, Anna, and the third place was awarded to Abigail.
Yet, it was clear to everyone present that had Abigail not fainted unexpectedly, she would have undoubtedly clinched the overall victory, given her high score from merely modifying the hem.
When Abella presented the award to Isabella, her heart was heavy with the knowledge that the championship didn't truly belong to her.
"It's unfair to contestant number one..." Isabella began to say reluctantly, hinting at the unexpected turn of events.
"There are no 'what ifs'. What happened, happened," Abella interjected, understanding her intent. "In competitions of this international magnitude, a setback doesn't grant a redo or delay. Outcomes must be accepted as they unfold."
Regardless of the cause, the results stood.
"I believe contestant number one is already looking forward to competing with you again. Who knows? Next time, the winner could be anyone," Abella reassured Isabella, offering her consolation.
Isabella saw encouragement and affirmation in Abella's gaze, almost in disbelief. But when she looked again, Abella had already moved on to award the next contestant.
After the awards, Abella addressed everyone, "Today's competitors represent the finest from their respective countries. Just standing on this stage is a testament to your exceptional talent – you've already outshone the majority in your field."
"While many of you will return home without a trophy, remember, there's no shame in defeat. The real disgrace is resorting to underhanded tactics only to be taken away by law enforcement."
Abella's words were clear and resolute, "With genuine talent, your day to shine will come, and people will take notice. For those who believe they can win, I'll see you at the next competition."
The room erupted in a fervent round of applause.
Abella had just stepped off the stage, and it wasn't until the competition was over that she hurried to the hospital to visit Abigail.
At that very moment, Steven was keeping a watchful eye by the bedside until the patient's eyelids fluttered open.
"Where am I...?" Abigail's mind was clouded with confusion.
"You're in the hospital," Steven gently inquired, seeing her come to. "Feeling any better?"
"How did I end up in the hospital..." Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, and it took her a moment to realize something shocking. "The competition, I was still in it..."
She attempted to get out of bed, tossing the covers aside, but lacked the strength and collapsed into Steven's arms.
Luckily, Steven caught her in the nick of time, preventing her from falling to the floor.
"Ow, that hurts..." The needle in the back of her hand caused her to wince in pain.
"Are you alright?" Steven looked down at the girl in his arms. Realizing they were too close, he quickly let go, allowing her to steady herself. "The competition's over."
"It's over? But I..." Abigail racked her brain and seemed to recall an incomplete project.
'The last butterfly, I hadn't even made the connection.'
"How did it end so quickly... Did I win?" Abigail saw Steven's silence and was tempted to remove the needle from her hand.
"Don't," Steven said, just as Abigail reached to tear off the medical tape from the back of her hand.
Steven immediately held down her hand, "You'll bleed."
Such a rash move could cause bleeding, bruising, and more pain, not to mention complications during future procedures.
"Mr. Medici, I must go back to the venue..." Abigail was frantic, her expression and voice filled with urgency.
Abigail had eagerly anticipated and meticulously prepared for this international competition for a grueling three months. She couldn't bear the thought of it all ending in such a disastrous manner.
"Your rank doesn't matter," Steven attempted to console her, his voice a soothing balm against her distress.
"It does!" Abigail retorted passionately, "I represented America today. I can't just bow out like this! There's more at stake..."
Seeing her struggle to articulate her thoughts, Steven gently prompted, "What else is there?"
Abigail's disappointment and sorrow were palpable, her voice wavering as she tried to maintain her composure.
"I'm on the verge of officially assuming control of the family business. If I had managed to clinch the championship, at least I would have earned some respect for my leadership... But now..."
Her world seemed to crumble around her.
How could she possibly lead the family's fashion empire when she couldn't even secure a ranking? How could they respect someone like her?
At her tender age, she was certain to face opposition from the board members.
She wasn't Abella. Winning the championship was the only solution she could envision.
Tears began to pool in Abigail's eyes. "Mr. Medici, is the competition truly over?"
"Yes," Steven confirmed, nodding towards the wall clock, "It concluded half an hour ago."
In that moment, the spark in Abigail’s eyes seemed to extinguish.
“Perhaps you should rest for a while.”
Abigail couldn’t remember how she managed to sit back on the bed. Her heart was shattered, unable to comprehend that her three months of rigorous preparation had led to this...
Two silent tears traced a path down her cheeks.
This was the first time Steven had ever witnessed a girl cry without uttering a sound. Her long eyelashes fluttered down, and two crystal-clear tears fell. They were silent, yet her sorrow was as palpable as a charging army, evoking empathy.
“Are you okay?” Steven was at a loss, extending a tissue in a feeble attempt to comfort her.
Suddenly, Abigail’s wails shattered the silence, startling Steven.
“Why would my stomach hurt...” Abigail sobbed, “Why did it have to be at that moment... Oh... Why did I faint... I’m such a disaster...”
Witnessing her emotional upheaval, Steven could only attempt to reassure her, “It’s not your fault.”
“I could have just endured it a little longer... Why am I so weak..." she lamented amidst her sobs.
Watching her pour out her heart, Steven confessed, "Someone poisoned you."
"Poisoned me?" The tears in Abigail's eyes froze. She immediately clutched Steven's arms and demanded, “Poison? Who did it? Are you suggesting my stomachache was a deliberate act of sabotage?”
“Yes.”
“Who would stoop so low and why?”
“I'm not certain yet.” Steven tried to pull away but was held firmly by Abigail. “Abella is investigating. She'll uncover the truth."
Overwhelmed by despair, Abigail broke down in his arms. "It's so unjust. Why would someone poison me? Couldn’t they have waited until after the competition?”
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