Chương 1
"The little white bottle struck Richard Bennett’s open palm hard enough to make the silverware jump. Lily had come out from under the dinner table on her knees, pale-pink dress twisted around one leg, long brown hair stuck to her damp cheek, and Daniel was already bending behind her with one hand extended when she blurted, “Grandpa—Dad put these in Mom’s tea!”
For half a second nobody moved.
Richard looked first at his granddaughter, then at the prescription bottle lying across the lines of his palm. Lily’s fingers remained hooked around two of his, as though releasing him might somehow return her to the space beneath the table. Behind her, Daniel straightened slowly. His navy suit jacket had pulled tight across his shoulders. The smile he made looked reasonable until anyone bothered to study his eyes.
“She found my vitamins,” he said. “Give them back.”
Lily moved behind Richard’s chair.
Richard closed his fingers around the bottle.
The dining room had been loud a moment earlier. Walter had been telling one of his familiar stories about a disastrous golf tournament in Hilton Head. Claire’s cousin Megan had laughed too hard because she had already had three glasses of wine. Someone near the far end of the table had asked for salt. Now there was only the faint hum of the refrigerator through the butler’s pantry and the small sound of Lily trying not to breathe too loudly.
Richard turned the bottle toward the chandelier.
Daniel’s smile disappeared.
“Dad,” Claire said from the hallway.
She had been upstairs changing shoes after Lily spilled sparkling water near the staircase. She came in quickly, one black heel in her hand and the other still on her foot, brown hair pinned neatly except for a strand near her cheek. She stopped when she saw her daughter crouched beside Richard.
Lily ran to her.
Claire dropped the shoe and caught her.
“Lily. What happened?”
Her daughter didn’t answer. She only pointed.
Richard read the label again.
His eyes stopped moving.
“Mom got sleepy every night after he used them,” Lily said.
Daniel took one step forward. “Enough.”
Richard raised his head.
Daniel reached for the bottle.
Richard caught his wrist before his fingers touched it.
Several glasses trembled. One tipped against a plate and rolled in a slow half circle before Megan caught it.
“Don’t touch her,” Richard said.
He did not raise his voice.
That frightened Claire more than shouting would have.
Richard had shouted plenty when she was growing up. He shouted at football games, contractors, cable companies, stubborn jar lids, and once at a squirrel that had somehow entered the screened porch. But when something actually mattered, he became very quiet.
Claire tightened her arms around Lily.
Daniel pulled his wrist free.
“This is insane,” he said.
Across the table, Walter Mercer stood so abruptly that the back of his chair struck the dark wood floor.
“Richard,” he said. “Put that bottle down.”
Every face turned toward him.
Daniel looked at his father.
It was not anger on Daniel’s face anymore.
It was fear.
Richard turned the bottle beneath the chandelier once more, his thumb covering the pharmacy address. He looked at Walter across the formal table between untouched roast chicken, linen napkins, crystal water glasses, and the lemon cake Claire had spent half the afternoon pretending she had baked herself.
“You know exactly what this is, don’t you?”
Walter stared at the bottle.
He said nothing.
Claire could feel Lily’s heartbeat against her ribs.
Daniel looked toward the windows.
Richard’s voice dropped further.
“This prescription has your name on it.”
Walter’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Claire heard the old grandfather clock in the entry hall click into the next minute.
Then Lily whispered against her neck, “He told me not to tell you.”
Claire did not understand the sentence at first.
Perhaps she did and refused it.
Her hand had been stroking Lily’s hair. It stopped midway down her daughter’s back.
“Who?”
Lily’s face remained buried against her.
Daniel spoke before she could.
“Claire, she’s seven.”
Richard’s chair scraped backward.
“Daniel.”
“I’m saying she’s seven. Kids misunderstand things. They hear half a conversation and build the other half themselves.”
“Who told you not to tell me?” Claire asked again.
Lily lifted her head.
Her eyes went to Daniel.
Nobody at the table needed anything more.
Daniel looked around at them and gave a short, incredulous laugh. “Oh, come on.”
Walter sat down again, but not because anyone had invited him to. His knees seemed to have weakened. He rubbed one hand over his mouth.
Richard placed the medicine bottle beside his plate.
Daniel immediately said, “Don’t leave it there.”
Richard looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because children are around.”
“There’s one child in the room, and she apparently knows more about this bottle than the adults.”
Claire heard herself say, “What is it?”
Walter answered without lifting his eyes.
“Zolpidem.”
The word meant nothing for a second.
Then Claire knew it as the generic name she had once seen on an urgent-care handout when insomnia had followed Lily’s birth.
“A sleeping pill?”
Walter nodded.
Claire looked at Daniel.
He shook his head.
“No.”
That was all.
No explanation. No outrage. Just one flat syllable.
Something cold began at the base of Claire’s throat.
Richard picked up the bottle again. “Walter Mercer. Ten milligrams.”
Walter closed his eyes.
“Richard, I can explain that.”
“Please do.”
Walter looked toward his son.
Daniel’s face hardened.
That exchanged glance was small enough that three people at the table probably missed it.
Claire did not.
She had spent twelve years learning Daniel’s face. The left corner of his mouth pulled slightly down when he lied about something minor, like whether he had remembered to call the plumber. When he was angry but trying to appear calm, he rubbed his thumbnail against the side of his index finger. When he was frightened, truly frightened, his eyes moved toward exits.
May you like
He was looking at the hallway.
Claire stood.
