Chương 14
“Daniel is claiming you drugged the drinks and attacked him after he confronted you about leaving with Noah.”
For a second Emily heard nothing.
Then the hospital returned all at once.
The monitor next door.
A rolling cart.
Someone coughing.
Noah breathing against her arm.
Emily stared at Morales.
“He says I did it?”
“Yes.”
“He says I drugged my own son?”
Morales did not soften the answer.
“Yes.”
Emily looked down at the bruises on her hands.
A laugh rose inside her and never reached her mouth.
Daniel had found his explanation.
And this time, he had built it around the one accusation he knew could frighten her more than anything else.
Emily’s first impulse was to defend herself before anyone had even accused her in the room.
“I didn’t.”
Morales nodded once.
“I know what you’re saying.”
“No, I mean I didn’t.”
“I understand.”
“He knows exactly what that sounds like.”
Emily’s voice rose and scraped against her injured throat.
“He knows what people will think.”
Tasha moved closer but did not touch her.
Noah stirred against Emily’s arm.
Emily lowered her voice immediately.
Morales sat down again.
“An allegation is not evidence.”
“It becomes evidence if he says it enough.”
“No.”
“It becomes something.”
“Yes.”
Morales looked tired.
“It becomes something we have to investigate.”
Emily stared at him.
“So now you investigate me.”
“We investigate what happened.”
She laughed once, bitterly.
“That is a very careful way to say yes.”
Morales did not argue.
Noah opened his eyes.
“What’s happening?”
Emily looked at him.
She did not know how much he had heard.
Morales glanced toward the curtain.
Emily made the decision before fear could make it for her.
“Your dad says I put the medicine in the drinks.”
Noah sat upright.
“That’s stupid.”
Emily almost smiled.
Morales did not.
“Why?”
Noah looked at him as if the answer were obvious.
“Because she drank hers.”
Morales’s expression changed.
Noah continued.
“And she almost fell before me.”
Emily turned toward him.
“You got sleepy after I did?”
“Yeah.”
“How long after?”
“I don’t know.”
“Minutes?”
“Maybe.”
Morales opened his notebook again.
Noah sighed loudly.
“You really like that thing.”
“It’s how I remember.”
“You could use your phone.”
“I could.”
“Then why don’t you?”
Morales looked at the notebook.
“I like paper.”
Noah frowned as if disappointed in him.
Emily felt a strange, exhausted affection for both of them.
Then Morales asked Noah to explain the order again.
Noah said Emily complained that the room felt hot.
She held the counter.
She sat down.
Daniel told Noah to get her water.
Noah stood.
Daniel told him never mind and brought a glass himself.
Emily closed her eyes.
She did not remember that.
“What glass?”
Morales asked.
“The one from Dad’s side.”
Emily opened her eyes.
Noah pointed at an imaginary table.
“He moved it before.”
Morales stopped writing.
“So he gave your mother the glass that had originally been near his own plate?”
“I think.”
“Think or know?”
Noah made a face.
“You’re doing the careful thing.”
“Yes.”
Noah looked toward Emily.
She nodded.
“Do the careful thing.”
He thought for several seconds.
“I know he picked up the glass near his plate.”
“Did you see your mother drink from it?”
“Yes.”
Emily felt cold.
“How much?”
“A lot.”
“Why?”
“You said your mouth was dry.”
The memory came back in pieces.
Daniel handing her a glass.
Cold condensation against her fingers.
Water that tasted faintly bitter.
She had blamed the lemon seltzer from earlier.
Morales wrote another note.
“Did Daniel touch your drink?”
Noah nodded.
“He moved mine when I got up.”
“When?”
“When Mom sat down.”
Emily turned to him.
“You got up?”
“To help you.”
He looked embarrassed.
“Dad told me to stay out of the way.”
Emily closed her eyes.
For years Daniel had used that phrase whenever Noah came too close to adult conflict.
Stay out of the way.
Go upstairs.
This isn’t your business.
The words had seemed protective once.
Now they rearranged themselves into something else.
Morales stood.
“I’m going to update the prosecutor.”
Emily looked up.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“What about me?”
“What about you?”
“Are you going to take my blood again?”
“Not unless the medical team needs it.”
“Search my things?”
“If there’s a legal reason.”
“You think there is?”
Morales paused.
“I think Daniel’s claim needs to be tested against the physical evidence.”
Emily rubbed both hands over her face.
At least that was honest.
Noah leaned against her again.
When Morales left, Tasha pulled a chair beside the stretcher.
“You need sleep.”
Emily stared at the curtain.
“I need an attorney.”
“That too.”
“Can you help me find one?”
“Yes.”
“Not Daniel’s kind.”
Tasha almost smiled.
“What kind is that?”
“The kind who bills by the panic.”
This time Tasha did smile.
Emily smiled back for half a second.
Then the weight of everything returned.
By dawn, the hospital windows had changed from black to a colorless gray.
Noah slept curled beneath a thin blanket in the chair beside Emily.
The bruise along Emily’s neck had darkened.
A nurse brought oatmeal she could barely swallow and coffee she did not touch.
She asked for tea instead.
Tasha returned with the name of a family-law attorney who worked with domestic violence cases and information for an advocate who could help with emergency housing.
Emily wrote both numbers on the back of a discharge instruction sheet.
Her handwriting shook.
Morales came back shortly after seven.
He had shaved sometime in the night or perhaps only splashed water on his face.
He looked no less tired.
Emily knew before he spoke that something had changed.
“The pharmacy responded.”
She sat straighter.
“The bottle?”
“Yes.”
“Carol?”
Morales nodded.
“The prescription was filled in her name eleven days ago.”
Emily stared at Noah.
He remained asleep.
“How did it get into our trash?”
“We asked her.”
“And?”
“She said Daniel took the bottle from her house Sunday.”
May you like
Emily’s heart accelerated.
“She admitted that?”
