Chương 6
“So nothing.”
“That is not what I said.”
“I know exactly what this is.”
His voice rose.
“Claire is trying to stop me from taking Lily.”
Dr. Marquez glanced toward me.
“This conversation is not about custody.”
“It is always about custody with her.”
A silence followed.
I could almost see Daniel pacing.
He paced when he felt trapped.
He would press two fingers against his forehead and walk in straight lines as if the room had been built incorrectly.
Then he would find the one sentence that made everyone else sound unreasonable.
“She has been doing this for months.”
Dr. Marquez’s jaw tightened.
“Doing what?”
“Pretending she’s sick.”
The room changed around me.
Not because he had said anything new.
Because for the first time, he had said it to someone who had not been prepared to agree.
Dr. Marquez looked at Dr. Shah.
“We have objective abnormalities.”
Daniel laughed.
“You have blood tests.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t know what they mean.”
“Correct.”
“And somehow now my daughter is in danger?”
“Possibly.”
“This is insane.”
There it was again.
The word he used when reality stopped cooperating.
“I’m taking Lily home.”
Dr. Marquez’s voice sharpened.
“I strongly recommend that she be medically assessed before leaving.”
“You recommend?”
“Yes.”
“So you can’t order it.”
“I am not her legal guardian.”
“Exactly.”
The triumph in his voice was immediate.
I pushed myself upright.
“Daniel.”
There was silence.
“Claire?”
“Leave her there.”
His tone softened at once.
“Sweetheart, you need to calm down.”
Dr. Marquez looked at me.
I almost laughed.
Sweetheart.
He had not called me that in eleven months.
“Do not call me that.”
“You’re in a hospital.”
“Yes.”
“You’re upset.”
“I collapsed in court.”
“Because you worked yourself into a state.”
Dr. Shah turned away as if he needed a second before speaking.
I held the phone tighter.
“Why is there medicine at your house?”
The silence lasted just a fraction too long.
“What?”
“Lily told the counselor she’s afraid of medicine.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why does she have to finish her juice?”
“She doesn’t.”
“Denise said Lily told the counselor you get angry when she doesn’t.”
“That is ridiculous.”
“Then explain it.”
“She’s seven.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means seven-year-olds say things.”
My mouth went dry.
“Whose prescriptions are in your bathroom?”
This time the silence stretched.
Dr. Marquez watched my face.
Daniel’s voice returned slower.
“What prescriptions?”
“Orange bottles.”
“Claire, you were in my bathroom?”
“To get Lily’s backpack.”
“You went through my things?”
“I took a picture.”
“You took a picture of my medication?”
“Your mother’s name was on one.”
Something clattered on his end.
Maybe keys.
Maybe a door.
His breathing changed.
“You need to stop.”
Dr. Marquez looked at me sharply.
I heard it too.
Not annoyance.
Fear.
“Stop what?”
“Stop building some fantasy because you lost control of the hearing.”
“I didn’t lose control.”
“You collapsed on the floor.”
“I’m being tested for arsenic.”
Nothing.
Not a breath.
Not a word.
For one terrible second, the silence itself felt like proof.
Then Daniel spoke.
“Jesus Christ.”
His voice sounded genuinely stunned.
I had lived with him for eleven years.
I knew his surprised voice.
I also knew he could lie.
The problem was that both things could be true at once.
“What did they find?”
“They haven’t confirmed anything.”
“Then why would you say that?”
“Because my doctors think toxic exposure is possible.”
Daniel cursed under his breath.
“Claire, listen to me.”
“No.”
“Listen.”
“I’ve listened to you for years.”
“This is not the time for one of your speeches.”
“I’m not giving a speech.”
“Then stop accusing me.”
“I asked about the prescriptions.”
“My mother stores medication at my place sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because she stays over.”
“She lives six minutes away.”
“So?”
“What medication?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes, actually.”
His anger had returned.
That almost reassured me.
Daniel frightened was unfamiliar.
Daniel offended was home territory.
Dr. Shah gestured toward the phone.
I handed it to him.
“Mr. Whitaker, this is Dr. Shah.”
Daniel sighed loudly.
“Another doctor.”
“I’m going to ask something very simple.”
“Go ahead.”
“Has Lily consumed anything today that you prepared?”
“I packed her lunch.”
“What?”
“Turkey sandwich, crackers, grapes, juice.”
“What kind of juice?”
“Apple.”
“Commercially sealed?”
A pause.
“No.”
My skin went cold.
Dr. Shah straightened.
“What container?”
“A reusable bottle.”
“Where did the juice come from?”
“My refrigerator.”
“Original container?”
Another pause.
“I poured it from a pitcher.”
Dr. Shah’s expression changed.
“Who prepared the pitcher?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“My mother was at the house last night.”
I stopped breathing.
Dr. Marquez leaned toward the phone.
“Did she make it?”
“Probably.”
“What was in it?”
“Apple juice.”
“Anything added?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t.”
His voice cracked with anger.
“I wasn’t standing over her shoulder.”
The room seemed to contract.
Dr. Shah spoke carefully.
“Mr. Whitaker, do not give Lily any food or drink from your home until this is sorted out.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“This is based on nothing.”
“It is based on an unexplained medical presentation and a reported possible shared exposure.”
“She doesn’t live with Claire half the week.”
“That makes patterns more useful, not less.”
Daniel became quiet.
For the first time, I heard him thinking instead of defending.
Then he said something that made every hair on my arms rise.
“Lily threw up Saturday.”
I shut my eyes.
“When?”
I asked.
Daniel did not answer me.
Dr. Shah did.
“What time?”
“After dinner.”
“What did she eat?”
“Chicken.”
“And?”
“Rice.”
My eyes opened.
Patricia’s casseroles.
Dr. Marquez turned toward me.
“Did she bring food to his house too?”
I nodded.
“All the time.”
Daniel heard.
“My mother cooks for us.”
“When did you eat it?” Dr. Shah asked.
“Saturday.”
“Did you get sick?”
“No.”
“Did your mother eat it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She said she wasn’t hungry.”
May you like
My heart began pounding harder.
Dr. Marquez looked at the monitor.
