Chapter 2
For several seconds, nobody moved.
I read the words again.
SHE’S POISONING ME.
My mother’s handwriting.
My mother’s fear.
My mother’s accusation.
Against my wife.
Vanessa stared at the paper in my hand.
Then she laughed.
It was a terrible sound.
Thin.
Forced.
Almost desperate.
“This is insane.”
I looked at her.
“Why did you try to grab it?”
“Because your mother is sick, Daniel.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“She’s confused.”
Behind me, Maria whispered, “She knew exactly what she was writing.”
Vanessa snapped toward her.
“Stay out of this.”
Maria didn’t move.
“I have stayed out of it for two weeks.”
Something in her voice made my stomach tighten.
I turned.
“What does that mean?”
Maria looked at my mother.
My mother nodded weakly.
Maria took a breath.
“Your mother has been trying to tell me something was wrong.”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Oh, please.”
Maria ignored her.
“She became sleepy every night after Mrs. Vanessa brought her tea.”
“She was already sick,” Vanessa said.
Maria continued.
“Some mornings she couldn’t remember what happened the night before.”
My eyes moved back to Vanessa.
She stared at me.
“You cannot seriously be listening to the housekeeper over your own wife.”
“I’m listening to everyone.”
“No, you’re accusing me.”
“I haven’t accused you of anything.”
She pointed at the note.
“You’re holding an accusation.”
My mother suddenly reached for me.
Her hand barely lifted from the blanket.
I sat beside her.
“Mom, tell me what happened.”
Her lips moved.
No sound came out.
Vanessa immediately stepped closer.
“She’s exhausted.”
“Stay back.”
Vanessa froze.
I had never spoken to her like that.
Not once in eleven years of marriage.
Her face changed.
“Daniel.”
“I said stay back.”
My mother squeezed my fingers.
Then she whispered.
“Tea.”
I leaned closer.
“What about the tea?”
“Bitter.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“She takes medication. Of course things taste strange.”
Mom shook her head.
“Only... after...”
Her eyelids fluttered.
“Mom?”
She suddenly went limp.
“Mom!”
I grabbed her shoulders.
Maria rushed forward.
Vanessa backed away.
“See?” Vanessa said quickly. “This is what I’ve been telling you. She needs rest.”
I stared at her.
“She needs a hospital.”
Vanessa’s face went white.
“No.”
The word came too fast.
Too sharp.
I looked at her.
“What did you say?”
“I mean, she hates hospitals. You know that.”
“She can barely speak.”
“She’ll panic.”
“I’m calling an ambulance.”
Vanessa stepped in front of me.
“Daniel, think.”
“I am thinking.”
“Your mother is eighty years old. She’s been weak before.”
“Move.”
She didn’t.
I pulled out my phone.
Her hand shot toward it.
I stepped back.
That was when the fear became something else.
Not proof.
Not yet.
But something cold settled inside me.
Because Vanessa wasn’t acting like a woman being falsely accused.
She was acting like a woman trying to control what happened next.
I dialed 911.
Vanessa’s eyes filled with tears.
“After everything I’ve done for your mother?”
“Then you should want doctors to help her.”
“I do.”
“Good.”
“Daniel—”
“Move.”
This time she did.
The dispatcher answered.
I gave our address.
Said my elderly mother had lost consciousness.
Said I suspected she might have taken medication that wasn’t prescribed to her.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Maria stared at me.
The dispatcher told me to keep my mother on the bed and watch her breathing.
When I ended the call, Vanessa whispered, “You just told them I drugged her.”
“No.”
I held up the prescription bottle.
“I told them what I found.”
“That medication is mine.”
“I know.”
“I take it when I can’t sleep.”
“Why was it in Mom’s bathroom?”
Silence.
Vanessa looked toward the door.
Then back at me.
“I must have left it there.”
“You sleep in Mom’s bathroom?”
Her jaw tightened.
“Don’t twist this.”
“I’m not twisting anything.”
Maria spoke.
“I saw her crushing something last night.”
Vanessa spun around.
“You liar.”
Maria flinched.
I didn’t.
“Crushing what?”
“I don’t know,” Maria said. “She was in the kitchen. She had a spoon and something white. When she saw me, she covered it with a napkin.”
Vanessa stepped toward her.
“You are fired.”
“Vanessa.”
“She’s fired!”
“Stop.”
“This woman has been poisoning you against me for months.”
Maria stared at her.
“I hardly speak to Mr. Daniel.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me,” I said.
Vanessa looked at me as if I had slapped her.
“You believe her.”
“I believe my mother deserves to be examined.”
Sirens sounded faintly outside.
Vanessa’s breathing changed.
She moved toward the dresser.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting her things.”
“No.”
She stopped.
“I said I’m getting her things.”
“Leave everything where it is.”
Her face hardened.
“You think this is a crime scene?”
“I don’t know what this is.”
The sirens grew louder.
My mother stirred.
“Daniel.”
“I’m here.”
Her eyes opened halfway.
“Drawer.”
“What drawer?”
She lifted one trembling finger toward the nightstand.
Vanessa moved first.
I caught her wrist.
“Don’t.”
She stared down at my hand.
“Let go of me.”
“What’s in the drawer?”
“I have no idea.”
“Then why were you reaching for it?”
Her eyes flicked toward Maria.
Another mistake.
I released Vanessa and opened the drawer.
Inside were tissues.
A Bible.
An old pair of reading glasses.
And a small plastic bag.
My heart stopped.
Inside the bag were three pills.
Each wrapped in a tiny square of tissue.
Beside them was another note.
Different handwriting.
Maria’s.
MONDAY.
TUESDAY.
WEDNESDAY.
I looked at her.
“What is this?”
Maria’s voice shook.
“Your mother started hiding them.”
Vanessa whispered, “Oh my God.”
Maria pointed.
“She pretended to swallow them.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because she begged me not to.”
“Why?”
My mother spoke.
“Needed proof.”
I turned to her.
She looked terrified.
Not confused.
Terrified.
“She said...” Mom whispered.
Her eyes moved toward Vanessa.
Vanessa backed into the wall.
Mom swallowed painfully.
“She said you’d never believe me.”
A fist seemed to close around my chest.
I looked at my wife.
“Did you say that?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“No!”
The doorbell rang downstairs.
Then pounding.
“Paramedics!”
Maria hurried toward the stairs.
Vanessa suddenly grabbed her purse from the chair.
I blocked the doorway.
“Where are you going?”
“To get out of everyone’s way.”
“You’re staying.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You cannot keep me here.”
“No.”
I looked at the pills.
“But you can explain them to the police.”
Her face drained.
“I thought you called an ambulance.”
“I did.”
“And now you’re calling police?”
I hadn’t been.
Not yet.
But her reaction told me she was afraid of more than doctors.
Maria returned with two paramedics.
They entered quickly, and everything changed at once.
Questions.
Blood pressure.
Oxygen.
Medication history.
One paramedic asked what my mother had taken.
I handed him the bottle.
“These may have been given to her.”
Vanessa immediately said, “That is not true.”
He looked from her to me.
“Whose prescription?”
“Hers,” I said.
Vanessa snapped, “Mine.”
The paramedic looked at the label.
Then at my mother.
“Has she been prescribed this medication?”
“No.”
Vanessa stepped closer.
“She accidentally took one.”
Maria said, “Three nights.”
Vanessa turned.
“You need to shut your mouth.”
The second paramedic paused.
He looked directly at Vanessa.
“Ma’am, please step outside the room.”
“This is my house.”
“And we’re treating a patient.”
I watched something flicker across Vanessa’s face.
Humiliation.
Anger.
Fear.
She walked into the hallway.
The paramedics transferred my mother to a stretcher.
As they moved her toward the stairs, she caught my hand again.
“Daniel.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Her fingers tightened.
“Safe.”
“What?”
“Safe.”
“You’re safe now.”
She shook her head.
Then pointed weakly toward Vanessa.
“No.”
I looked over.
Vanessa stood ten feet away.
Watching us.
My wife.
The woman I had trusted with my mother.
With our home.
With my life.
And for the first time, I realized my mother wasn’t asking whether she was safe.
May you like
She was warning me.
Vanessa wasn’t finished.
