I never make it to the kitchen

The kitchen is not far at all from the dining room, it should be said. It ought to be a brisk walk from one place to the next. Rosa was moving quickly as well, just ahead of me. I'd heard no one else following us out of the dining room.

Then why... why was there an iron fire-place poker embedded between my shoulders?! Who could have even reached there? They would have to have been waiting on the ceiling like a ninja in order to plant it there!

I grasped at the poker angrily with both hands, trying to pull it out while calling out for Rosa to stop. She turned with a look of shock on her face, with even less understanding of the current situation than I had. After all, none of those siblings were expecting anyone to be murdered, presumably. For me, it was happening earlier than I expected. For her, it was an event she never could have anticipated in her lifetime.

"Mister Player, stay calm! I'll get Doctor Nanjo from the conference room! Just stay there!"

That's sweet of you, Rosa, but it's too late for me. Besides, how many times have I ever seen Doctor Nanjo help someone recover after they're attacked? Not many. As I watched her stylish black boots retreat from this position back to where she'd came, I fell to my knees, gave up trying to pull out the poker, then died there. If anyone arrived there without Rosa's background, they'd assumed I'd died without fighting, giving up on life far more easily than made sense. Just the first of many mysteries of the night for them to figure out.