The Apothecary's Light

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, harsh and sterile. Elena's hands moved with practiced precision across the lab bench. Three beakers arranged in perfect parallel lines.

She rubbed her left wrist. The medical alert bracelet caught the light. PANCREATIC CANCER—TERMINAL.

Pierre's journal lay open beside her, the 1740 handwriting cramped and urgent. Mercury. Belladonna. Compound ratios transcribed into modern measurements. The formula that had shown him paradise.

Her fingers trembled as she mixed the final solution. The smell of mercury sharp in her nostrils.

The laboratory door crashed open.

"Elena!"

Margot stood in the doorway, her jade bracelet twisted tight. Her glasses fogged from running.

"求你了," Margot pleaded in Mandarin, then switched. "Elena, please—whatever this is, we can find another way."

Elena closed her eyes. Took three deliberate breaths. Opened them.

"Actually, Margot, we've tried every other way." Her voice clinical, distant. "This is the only formula left."

"You don't know what this will do to you."

Margot reached for the beaker. Elena pulled it back.

"We know exactly what it did to Pierre-Jean du Monchaux." Elena lifted the glass. The liquid caught the fluorescent light, amber and poisonous. "He saw the light. He crossed."

"He died, Elena. He died."

"He found something." Elena's fingers tightened on the beaker. "Something beyond—"

"Beyond what? Beyond me?" Margot's voice cracked. She twisted her bracelet harder. "I can't lose you."

Elena looked at her best friend. Saw the tears forming behind those glasses. The loyalty that had defined Margot's entire life.

"I think maybe I'm already lost," Elena whispered.

She closed her eyes again. Three deliberate breaths.

Lifted the beaker to her lips.

"Elena, no—"

The metallic taste flooded her mouth. Belladonna burned her throat. Mercury coated her tongue with poison.

Margot lunged forward. Too late.

Elena felt her medical alert bracelet grow cold against her wrist. The fluorescent lights began to blur. Shadows shifted on the glass beakers.

"I'm sorry," she managed.

Margot's hands caught her shoulders. Warm. Real. Desperate.

"Don't leave me," Margot sobbed. "请不要离开我。"

But the laboratory was already dissolving. The harsh lights softening into something golden. Something warm.

Elena's vision filled with radiance. Pierre's journal slipped from the bench. Hit the floor with a thud that sounded distant, underwater.

Margot's voice calling her name.

The smell of chemicals fading.

Her bracelet burning cold then hot then nothing.

And then—light.

Pure. Strong. So bright she thought she was in paradise.