CHATBOT: INT. CLINIC ROOM - NIGHT The room is dimly lit, with Priscilla Druin, an alluring and determined young woman, lying on the hospital bed. Her eyes are focused, her posture poised. She stares intently at two high-ranking detectives, Basil Bends and Percival Gleswick, standing by her bedside. They exude an air of authority, their presence imposing. Priscilla: (firmly) I'm telling you, Detective Bends, Tristan couldn't have done this. It makes no sense for him to murder me before our wedding. He'd gain access to my wealth if he waits! Detective Gleswick: (leaning in, slyly) Ah, Ms. Druin, perhaps that's exactly what he wants us to believe. A cunning strategy to divert suspicion. Priscilla: (exasperated) But that's preposterous! Tristan loves me. He's been planning this wedding for months. He wouldn't jeopardize it by killing me. Detective Bends: (leaning against the wall, skeptically) We understand your loyalty, Ms. Druin, but we need to consider all possibilities. Killers come in all shapes and sizes, even those closest to us. Priscilla's frustration grows, but she remains composed. Priscilla: If Tristan were the culprit, why would he raise suspicions by proposing? He knew the moment he did that, he would be under the microscope. It's illogical! Detective Gleswick: (leaning over Priscilla) We're not ruling anything out yet, Miss Druin. Circumstances can be deceiving. People have motives beyond comprehension. Priscilla sighs, acknowledging defeat. She tries to look weak and desperate. Priscilla: (wearily) I can't handle this questioning anymore. I feel so tired. Can I please rest? Priscilla inwardly cringes, realizing how suspicious her request may seem. Detective Bends: (eyeing her suspiciously) Very well, but remember, we'll be back with more questions. Detectives Bends and Gleswick exit the room, leaving Priscilla alone. She releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Luciana Vipari, a lively and chatty nurse, enters the room with a gentle smile. Luciana: (sweetly) How are you feeling, dear? Can I help you get more comfortable? Priscilla: (weakly) Thank you, Luciana. If you could lower the bed a little and put the oxygen mask on, that would be wonderful. Luciana obliges, adjusting the bed and attaching the oxygen mask to Priscilla's face. Luciana: (whispering, conspiratorial) Don't worry, sweetie. I've been listening to those detectives. Something doesn't smell right. We'll find the truth. Luciana exits, leaving Priscilla alone once again. Priscil...