Chapter 2 - THE MEDICINE VANESSA BROUGHT FROM HOME
Miguel had not come to the hospital only because he heard I was sick.
My office manager, Tessa Greene, called him that morning after discovering Vanessa inside my private office.
She claimed she needed my insurance documents.
Instead, security footage showed her photographing cabinet labels and attempting to open the locked succession drawer.
When Tessa challenged her, Vanessa smiled.
“Arthur asked me to organize everything in case the hospital visit goes badly.”
I had not even gone to the hospital yet.
At that hour, I was still at home, vomiting and shaking with fever.
“How did she know I would be admitted?” I asked.
Miguel’s jaw tightened.
“She called the company before the ambulance came.”
Vanessa had told Tessa I might not survive the week.
That was before any scan.
Before any doctor.
Before anyone mentioned a mass.
I thought back to breakfast.
Vanessa had brought me tea and two pills she said were for indigestion.
I normally handled my own medication.
That morning, I was too weak to argue.
Dr. Price returned while Miguel was still there.
I asked him whether any medication could worsen the infection or distort the scan.
His expression became cautious.
“What exactly did you take?”
“I don’t know.”
He immediately ordered additional blood work and toxicology screening.
Vanessa returned fifteen minutes later.
Her smile vanished when she saw Miguel.
“What are you doing here?”
“Visiting my friend.”
“This is family time.”
Miguel did not move.
I watched her place her handbag on the visitor chair.
Inside the open zipper, I saw a prescription bottle.
The label was turned inward.
“Vanessa,” I said weakly, “what did you give me this morning?”
She blinked.
“Your stomach medication.”
“What was it called?”
“You know the name.”
“I’m asking you.”
Her face hardened for less than a second.
Then the sweetness returned.
“You’re confused from the painkillers.”
There it was.
Not an answer.
A diagnosis.
Dr. Price entered before she could take the bottle from her bag.
He asked permission to review everything I had taken in the previous forty-eight hours.
Vanessa immediately stood.
“That’s unnecessary.”
“It is medically necessary.”
She clutched her handbag.
Chloe appeared at the doorway.
“Mom, the realtor keeps calling.”
The room froze.
Vanessa turned slowly toward her daughter.
Chloe realized too late what she had said.
“What realtor?” I asked.
“No one,” Vanessa replied.
Miguel leaned back in his chair.
“You have a realtor before Arthur has a diagnosis?”
Vanessa’s voice sharpened.
“We were discussing downsizing.”
“You told me you loved this house,” I said.
“I love you. That is why I’m preparing.”
Preparing.
The word had become a warning.
A nurse entered to collect my blood.
As Vanessa stepped aside, the prescription bottle slipped from her bag and rolled beneath the bed.
Miguel picked it up first.
The label belonged to Chloe.
The medication had been prescribed after a dental procedure months earlier.
Dr. Price read the name and went still.
“These are not stomach tablets.”
Vanessa reached for the bottle.
Miguel did not give it to her.
The medication alone did not prove she had given it to me.
But the pill was known to cause severe complications when combined with one of my regular prescriptions.
Dr. Price ordered my home medication list brought from the pharmacy.
Vanessa left the room claiming she needed air.
Chloe followed.
Before the door closed, I heard Chloe whisper:
May you like
“You said the pills wouldn’t show.”
Cliffhanger: Chloe believed the pills were part of a plan—and the toxicology test was about to reveal whether my illness began naturally or inside my own kitchen.**
