Chapter 2 - The Second Syringe
The paramedics entered through the secured side door.
Garrison kept Julian outside until another officer arrived to manage the front entrance. He could hear Julian objecting through the glass, alternating between legal language and fatherly concern.
“I’m a physician.”
“They have medical conditions.”
“You’re delaying care.”
“My daughter requires her prescribed medication.”
The more Julian spoke, the less Garrison liked the shape of his story.
But suspicion remained suspicion.
Inside, paramedic Rachel Kim knelt beside Maya.
She did not ask leading questions.
She checked vital signs, responsiveness, breathing, and pain while her partner prepared transport.
“What hurts?”
“My belly.”
“Anywhere else?”
“My head.”
“Do you feel sleepy?”
Maya nodded.
Elena watched every movement.
Then Rachel asked:
“Do you know what your dad gave you?”
Maya shook her head.
“Did it have a taste?”
“Bitter.”
“Did you take it yourself?”
Maya’s eyes went toward the door.
“No.”
That answer was documented.
Then Elena tugged Garrison’s sleeve.
“There’s another one.”
“What?”
“In the backpack.”
The pink backpack was still outside in Julian’s hand.
Garrison looked through the glass.
Julian had heard.
His grip tightened visibly.
“Which pocket?” Garrison asked.
“The little zipper.”
“Do you know what’s inside?”
Elena nodded.
“A syringe like that one. But it still has stuff.”
Garrison’s pulse changed.
A potentially useful sample.
He opened the door only after two officers positioned themselves appropriately.
“Mr. Mercer, place the backpack on the ground.”
Julian frowned.
“What?”
“Place it down.”
“That belongs to my daughters.”
“Yes.”
“And you have no right to search it.”
Garrison kept his voice even.
“Your daughter has just told us it contains medication relevant to an active medical emergency. We’re preserving the bag while we address that.”
Julian stared past him toward Elena.
She shrank behind the counter.
That was enough for one of the other officers to step slightly between Julian and the children’s line of sight.
Julian finally set the backpack down.
But he kept talking.
“Maya has severe anxiety-related stomach episodes. The medication is prescribed.”
“Then the hospital can verify that.”
“You’re treating me like a criminal.”
“No,” Garrison said. “We’re treating a sick child.”
That silenced him.
For about three seconds.
Then Julian said:
“My daughters have been through trauma. Their mother abandoned them two years ago. Elena has developed fantasies about bringing her back. Maya copies her.”
Elena’s head snapped up.
“She didn’t abandon us!”
Julian’s face hardened.
“See?”
Not concern.
Vindication.
Garrison noticed.
Rachel did too.
The backpack was preserved and later searched under emergency/evidentiary protocols with supervision. Inside the front pocket they found another oral syringe capped inside a plastic sleeve.
This one contained a small amount of cloudy liquid.
There was also a pharmacy bottle.
The child’s name on the label was not Maya.
It read:
ELEANOR MERCER.
Garrison looked at Julian.
“Who is Eleanor Mercer?”
Julian’s composure finally slipped.
“My mother.”
“Is she living?”
Julian hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Was this prescribed for her?”
“It was an old bottle.”
“Why is your seven-year-old carrying it?”
“I packed in a hurry.”
Elena stared at him.
“No, you didn’t.”
Everyone turned.
She pointed at the backpack.
“That was under Daddy’s sink.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“Elena.”
She flinched.
Garrison stepped into her line of sight.
“You can talk to me.”
Elena swallowed.
“Daddy puts the little bottles in a locked box. He took that one out today.”
Julian spoke immediately.
“She’s mistaken.”
“Then the records will clear it up,” Garrison said.
Maya was loaded for transport. Elena would accompany her with police and child-protection coordination because there was no safe release to the parent under immediate review.
Julian demanded to ride along.
He was told he could follow separately pending hospital/security conditions.
He became furious.
“I am their father.”
Garrison looked him directly in the eye.
“And right now one of your daughters is telling us she is afraid to leave with you.”
That sentence finally stopped Julian.
Not emotionally.
Strategically.
He realized the station now had a record.
A child’s statement.
A preserved syringe.
A pharmacy bottle belonging to another family member.
And a contradiction between his missing-child report and what the twins had said before he arrived.
As paramedics wheeled Maya toward the side entrance, her hand shot out from beneath the blanket.
“Elena.”
Her sister grabbed it.
“I’m here.”
Maya whispered something so softly Rachel had to lean closer.
Then Rachel looked at Garrison.
“What did she say?” he asked.
Rachel’s expression changed.
“She says Daddy did the same thing to Grandma.”
Julian heard from across the room.
May you like
His face went white.
Cliffhanger: The medicine bottle in the girls’ backpack belonged to Julian’s mother, and Maya’s whispered claim that “Daddy did the same thing to Grandma” turned what first looked like one frightening episode into a possible pattern spanning two generations.
