Part 5
“Could it have been accidental?”
“It is possible. I’m not saying it was likely.”
“She doesn’t have a prescription for one.”
“Nothing in the sealed pouch matches it.”
“Could it have come from wine?”
“Potentially. We can’t determine the route from the blood test alone.”
Daniel looked at Claire’s pale face. “Will she wake up?”
“I expect her to. Her breathing and heart rhythm are stable. We’re supporting her while the drug clears.”
“Expected when?”
“Several hours, possibly longer. Bodies do not follow schedules as neatly as families want them to.”
Dr. Cole moved to the monitor and reviewed the numbers. He had a way of speaking that was neither warm nor cold. Focused, as the situation required.
Daniel asked, “Did Evelyn know you?”
“Not personally. The Vale family has maintained a concierge account here for years.”
“Was Claire ever treated here?”
“After her father’s death, for dehydration and acute anxiety.”
Daniel remembered. Eight months earlier, after Richard’s funeral, Claire had spent one night at a clinic. Evelyn had arranged it. Daniel had been in Boston dealing with a construction accident and returned the following morning. Claire had told him she had fainted because she had not eaten.
The same clinic.
The same private arrangement.
“What does the old record say?” Daniel asked.
“I can’t discuss a prior admission without the patient’s permission unless it is directly relevant to current care.”
“It may be.”
“I’m reviewing it.”
Daniel watched the doctor’s face. “You saw something.”
“I saw that Mrs. Vale initiated that intake as well.”
“Before Claire fainted?”
“I haven’t established the timeline.”
“Will you?”
“Yes.”
Dr. Cole set the tablet aside. “There is another issue. The intake request submitted today stated that Claire had a history of misusing medication during periods of emotional distress.”
“That’s false.”
“Has she ever taken more than prescribed?”
“No.”
“Has she ever expressed suicidal thoughts?”
“No.”
“Any psychiatric hospitalization?”
“No.”
“Substance use?”
“She drinks wine. Sometimes too much at family events because her stepmother makes sobriety feel like a competitive sport. Nothing else.”
The doctor’s mouth shifted slightly, not quite a smile.
Daniel rubbed both hands over his face. “Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize for being accurate.”
“She had panic attacks after her father died. She saw a therapist. She took medication as prescribed. Evelyn acted as though grief was a reputational hazard.”
“Was Mrs. Vale involved in arranging her care?”
“Too involved.”
Dr. Cole nodded once. “When Claire wakes, I need to speak with her alone.”
Daniel’s first response rose instantly.
Why?
He held it back.
“Of course.”
The doctor noticed the effort. “You may remain nearby.”
“I said of course.”
“I heard you.”
After he left, Daniel stared at the closed door.
Claire had once told him that his worst habit was not control itself. It was the tiny flash of injury he showed when she asked him to step back, as if her independence were a rejection of his love.
He had denied it.
Now he saw it in the dark reflection of the window.
At 1:12 in the morning, Claire moved her left hand.
Daniel was standing by the sink, trying to drink coffee that tasted like burnt paper. The cup slipped against the counter when he heard the faint scrape of her wedding ring on the bedrail.
He crossed the room.
“Claire?”
Her eyelids trembled. She inhaled through her nose and frowned as if waking were an unpleasant problem someone else had assigned her.
“Claire, it’s me.”
Her eyes opened halfway. They were unfocused at first, then moved slowly toward his face.
“Daniel?”
“Yes.”
Her voice was dry and almost soundless.
He reached for the water and stopped. “I need to ask before giving you anything.”
She closed her eyes again. “You’ve become very strange.”
A laugh escaped him. It broke in the middle.
Her eyes opened at the sound. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m having an allergic reaction to private medicine.”
She tried to lift her head. Pain or dizziness stopped her. Daniel placed his hand near her shoulder without pressing it down.
“Stay still.”
“Where am I?”
“Ashcroft Clinic.”
Her gaze moved toward the monitor, the intravenous line, the hospital gown. Alarm gathered slowly in her face rather than arriving all at once.
“My dress.”
“It’s safe.”
“That wasn’t the important part of the question.”
“You were unconscious.”
She swallowed. “The study.”
“I found you there.”
“Evelyn?”
“She was there.”
Claire stared at him for several seconds.
“What did she tell you?”
“That you fainted. Then that you slipped. Then that you threatened to take pills.”
Claire’s eyes sharpened despite the drug. “What?”
“Dr. Cole needs to speak with you. I’m going to get him.”
She caught his sleeve with weak fingers.
“The folder.”
“I saw it.”
“Did you take it?”
“No. I took your bag and a sealed medication pouch.”
Her grip tightened as much as it could. “What pouch?”
Daniel sat on the edge of the chair. “It had your medications inside and an Ashcroft wristband attached. The intake was opened at three seventeen.”
Claire went still.
“You weren’t at the estate then,” he said.
“No.”
“She had already registered you for admission.”
Claire’s eyes moved away from him.
“What?” Daniel asked.
“Nothing.”
“You recognized that.”
“I said nothing.”
“You looked like you recognized it.”
She let go of his sleeve. “Please get the doctor.”
Daniel remained seated.
“Daniel.”
He stood.
Her voice followed him to the door. “And don’t call anyone else until I understand what happened.”
He turned.
“I already called your attorney.”
Anger moved across her face, weakened but unmistakable.
“Of course you did.”
“Records could be destroyed.”
“I asked you not to take over.”
“You were unconscious.”
“And the moment I woke up, you informed me what you had decided.”
He opened his mouth.
May you like
Claire closed her eyes. “Get the doctor.”
Dr. Cole returned with the nurse. Daniel stepped into the corridor while they examined her. The door did not close completely. He could hear only fragments: Claire answering her name, the date, the current president, the reason she believed she was at the estate.
