Chương 14
I sat straighter.
“And?”
“She’s stable.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No, it’s the beginning of one.”
Dr. Marquez pulled the stool close.
“Her electrolytes are normal.”
I exhaled.
“Her blood count is reassuring.”
Another breath.
“We’re waiting on the toxicology studies.”
“Does she have symptoms that fit?”
“Stomachaches are nonspecific.”
“What about vomiting?”
“Also nonspecific.”
“What about the drink?”
“Also not proof.”
I stared at her.
“You really hate certainty.”
“I love certainty.”
She folded her arms.
“I just rarely meet it.”
I looked toward the hallway.
“Can I see Lily?”
“Soon.”
“Soon doctor-time or soon human-time?”
“Human-time.”
That meant something had softened.
She leaned forward.
“Claire, I need to ask you something difficult.”
“Apparently that’s everyone’s hobby today.”
“When Lily is discharged, where do you want her to go?”
“My house.”
“With you?”
“Yes.”
“You may not be discharged tonight.”
I had not considered that.
“With Rachel.”
“Is Rachel legally authorized?”
“For school pickup, yes.”
“For medical discharge?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can her father take her?”
My body went rigid.
Dr. Marquez saw it.
“I’m not asking whether you trust him emotionally.”
“I don’t trust him at all.”
“Then say that.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Do you believe he intentionally exposed either of you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you believe he would harm Lily now?”
“No.”
The answer surprised me.
I thought about it again.
Still no.
Daniel had done terrible things to me without understanding them as harm.
He had humiliated me.
Dismissed me.
Helped Patricia turn illness into character evidence.
But when Lily cried, he usually softened.
When she had pneumonia at five, he slept on the hospital floor because she was afraid to wake without him.
People did not sort themselves neatly into safe and unsafe.
That was inconvenient.
It was also true.
“I don’t think he’d hurt her on purpose.”
“What about accidentally?”
I looked down at my hands.
“I don’t trust his judgment.”
“That’s different.”
“Everybody keeps saying that today.”
“Because words matter.”
“They didn’t this morning.”
Dr. Marquez went quiet.
I regretted the sharpness.
Then she said, “Maybe they will tomorrow.”
Before I could answer, the door opened.
Detective Bell returned carrying a paper cup of coffee and looking as though he had forgotten to drink it.
He smelled faintly of rain, though the day outside had been bright when I arrived.
“Cabin?”
I asked.
He set the coffee down.
“Search is underway.”
“Did Patricia say anything?”
“She invoked counsel.”
“Of course she did.”
“That is her right.”
“I know.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I am.”
Bell sat.
“She doesn’t owe us a confession.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I know a lot of things I don’t enjoy.”
His mouth twitched.
Then he became serious.
“We have something you should hear.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“The handwritten notes at the cabin.”
Dr. Marquez stayed.
Bell did not object.
“Some appear to track dates.”
“What dates?”
“Your medical episodes.”
The room became very quiet.
I stared at him.
“How?”
“Initials, dates, and short annotations.”
“What initials?”
“C.W.”
My skin prickled.
“What annotations?”
Bell opened his notebook.
“I’m not giving you every entry.”
“Why?”
“Because some details may matter later if we need to distinguish what you independently remember from what you learned from us.”
I hated the logic again.
He continued.
“One entry corresponds to the March incident you described.”
“What does it say?”
Bell looked at me.
“C.W., tea, half.”
My fingers went cold.
“Half what?”
“We don’t know.”
“Dose?”
“Possibly.”
“Half a packet?”
“Possibly.”
“Half a pill?”
“Possibly.”
“Half a teaspoon?”
“Possibly.”
I wanted to throw something.
Bell let me be angry.
“There are other entries.”
“How many?”
“Enough to establish a pattern worth investigating.”
“Since when?”
He hesitated.
“October.”
The month the dizziness began.
I looked toward Dr. Marquez.
She did not speak.
“What else?”
Bell turned a page.
“There are entries for L.W.”
I stopped breathing.
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
“We don’t yet know what the initials refer to.”
“You know exactly what they refer to.”
“We suspect.”
“Say her name.”
Bell’s jaw tightened.
“Lily.”
I gripped the arms of the chair.
“How many?”
“Fewer.”
“How many?”
“Four.”
The number was both horrifying and absurdly small.
Four.
Four moments someone had apparently considered important enough to write down.
“Dates?”
“Two this summer.”
“And?”
“One last month.”
“And Saturday?”
Bell nodded.
I stood.
The monitor cable pulled tight.
Dr. Marquez caught my elbow.
“Sit down.”
“What does Saturday say?”
Bell did not answer.
“What does it say?”
“Claire.”
“Tell me.”
His face changed.
Maybe he decided withholding it would be crueler.
“L.W., bedtime, three drops.”
My legs weakened.
Dr. Marquez guided me back into the chair.
Three drops.
Lily’s voice returned to me.
The white drops.
I pressed both hands over my mouth.
Bell waited.
“Was there an entry for today?”
I asked.
He looked down.
“Yes.”
My heart began hammering.
“What?”
“L.W., lunch.”
“The juice.”
“Likely.”
“And me?”
Bell said nothing.
“Was there one for me today?”
He looked up.
“Yes.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What did it say?”
Bell hesitated.
Then he read it.
“C.W., court.”
That was all.
Two words.
My initials and the place where Patricia had sat watching me collapse.
My stomach twisted so hard I thought I might vomit.
“She knew.”
Bell did not answer.
“She knew I’d collapse.”
“Possibly.”
“She was sitting there waiting for it.”
“We don’t yet know what she expected to happen.”
“She pointed at me.”
My voice broke.
“She pointed at me on the floor and said I was faking.”
Bell’s face hardened.
For the first time, I saw anger in him.
Not loud anger.
The useful kind.
“Did anyone record that?”
“The court reporter.”
He nodded.
“We’ll obtain the transcript.”
“Colonel Carter heard it.”
“We already have his contact information.”
“How?”
“The paramedic included his card in the transport documentation.”
Of course.
The world had traces.
Not perfect ones.
But traces.
“What happens to Patricia?”
“That depends on evidence.”
May you like
“What happens tonight?”
“She remains at the cabin while the search is completed and officers coordinate with the prosecutor.”
