CHAPTER 2
Emma's hospital room was small and white, with a window that looked out onto the parking lot.
She was asleep when I walked in, her small body barely visible beneath the white blankets, her face pale against the pillow.
I sat down in the chair beside her bed and took her hand in mine.
Her fingers were warm.
Alive.
She was alive.
"Mommy's here, baby," I whispered. "Mommy's here."
She didn't stir.
I watched her chest rise and fall, and I counted each breath.
One. Two. Three.
I got to a hundred before I stopped counting.
"Mrs. Carter?"
I looked up and saw a woman standing in the doorway.
She was tall, maybe forty, with sharp gray eyes and short brown hair.
"I'm Dr. Morrison," she said. "I'm the head of the pediatric intensive care unit."
"How is she?" I asked.
"Your daughter is very lucky. The propofol dosage she received was significant, but we were able to stabilize her."
"But will she be okay?"
Dr. Morrison sat down in the chair across from me.
"Your daughter will make a full recovery. There will be no long-term effects."
I almost collapsed with relief.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"However," Dr. Morrison continued, "I need to ask you some questions."
"Okay."
"Your husband was arrested today."
I nodded.
"He's been charged with attempted murder."
I stared at her.
"Attempted murder?"
"The district attorney's office believes there's enough evidence to charge him."
I couldn't breathe.
"Mrs. Carter, did you know your husband was planning to harm your daughter?"
"No," I said. "Of course not."
"Are you certain? Did he ever say anything, do anything, that made you concerned?"
"No. He loved Emma. He loved her more than anything."
"Then why would he try to kill her?"
I didn't have an answer.
I didn't have any answers.
I only had questions.
Why had Rachel smiled?
Why had Mark known what was in the drink?
Why had he had propofol in his car?
The mystery was getting deeper, and I felt like I was drowning in it.
"I don't know," I said finally.
Dr. Morrison nodded. "We've also been told your sister is a person of interest in this case."
"Rachel?"
"Yes. The police want to question her as well."
"She smiled," I said, and I realized I was speaking out loud. "When Emma fell, she smiled."
Dr. Morrison's expression didn't change.
"Are you certain?"
"I know what I saw."
"Then I suggest you tell the police everything you remember."
She stood up to leave.
"Wait," I said.
She turned back.
"Can I see my sister? Can I talk to her?"
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Please. I need to see her face. I need to see if she's lying."
Dr. Morrison was quiet for a moment.
"I'll try to arrange it," she said finally.
I spent the rest of the day in Emma's hospital room, holding her hand and waiting for her to wake up.
She did, eventually, around eight in the evening.
"Mommy?" she said, her voice small and confused.
"I'm here, baby."
She looked around the room, her eyes wide and frightened.
"Where am I?"
"The hospital. You got sick, but you're going to be okay."
"What happened?"
I couldn't tell her the truth.
I couldn't tell her that someone had tried to kill her.
"Bad lemonade," I said instead. "You had bad lemonade."
She nodded slowly, accepting the explanation because she was only seven years old and she trusted me.
"Where's Daddy?"
I hesitated.
"He had to go home," I said. "He has to do something important."
"Will he come back tomorrow?"
"Yes," I said.
I lied.
"Mommy, I had a bad dream."
"What was it about?"
"Someone was chasing me. Someone with a scary face."
"Don't worry," I said. "Mommy will protect you. No one will ever hurt you."
But as I said the words, I knew they weren't true.
Someone had already hurt her.
Someone I loved.
One of them.
Maybe both of them.
I stayed with Emma until she fell asleep again, and then I let the nurses take over.
I had to see Rachel.
I needed answers.
The police station was cold and gray, with fluorescent lights that hummed overhead and the smell of stale coffee in the air.
I told the officer at the front desk who I was, and he led me to an interview room.
Rachel was already there, sitting at the table with her hands cuffed in front of her.
"Lauren," she said when I walked in.
"Rachel."
"Sit down," the officer said, and I sat.
He left us alone, but I knew the camera in the corner was watching.
"Are you okay?" Rachel asked.
"Am I okay?" I laughed. "My daughter almost died. My husband was arrested. And you're asking if I'm okay?"
"I didn't do it."
"I saw you smile."
"I didn't smile. You imagined that."
"I didn't imagine anything. I saw you smile."
"I was in shock. People do strange things when they're in shock."
"That's not what I saw."
Rachel leaned forward, her face intense.
"Listen to me. Mark is the one who did this. Mark put the propofol in Emma's drink. I made the drink, but he was there when I made it. He had access to it."
"Why would he do that?"
"I don't know. But he did."
"You had motive."
"I had no motive."
"You were jealous."
"Jealous?"
"Of my life. My husband. My daughter. You always have been."
Rachel was silent.
"Tell me the truth," I demanded.
"I didn't do it."
"Then who did?"
"Mark. I told you. Mark did it."
"Then why was the propofol in his car? Why did he know what was in the drink before anyone else?"
"That's what I'm saying! He's the one who did it. He's the one who put it in the drink. I was just the one who handed it to Emma."
I stared at her.
"Are you telling me that Mark used you?"
"Yes."
"He used you to poison my daughter?"
"Lauren, please. You have to believe me."
"Why would Mark want to hurt Emma?"
"I don't know. But he did."
"I need to see him."
"He's in jail. They're not letting anyone see him."
"There has to be someone who will let me see him."
Rachel shook her head. "You can't see him. They've forbidden it."
"Then I need to talk to his lawyer."
"His lawyer doesn't want to talk to you."
"Then I need to find out the truth."
"The truth," Rachel said, and her voice was strange and hollow, "is that Mark has been hiding something for years. Something he never told you."
"What?"
"I don't know. But it's something big. Something that made him want to hurt Emma."
"Who else knows?"
"His mother."
"His mother?"
"Yes. She knows something. She's always known something."
My mother-in-law.
The woman I had never trusted.
The woman who had always looked at me like I was a stranger.
The woman who had secrets in her eyes.
"Where is she?" I asked.
"She lives in Florida. But she visited last month. She was there at the house. She saw something. She knows something."
"What did she see?"
"I don't know. But you need to talk to her."
"Fine. I'll talk to her."
I stood up to leave.
"Lauren, wait."
I turned back.
"I know you don't believe me," Rachel said. "But I didn't do it. I would never hurt Emma. I love her."
"Then why did you smile?"
"Because I was terrified."
"You smiled because you were terrified?"
"Yes."
"That's not how fear works."
"Everyone reacts differently."
I stared at her.
And for a moment, I almost believed her.
But then I remembered the smile.
That small, calm curve at the corner of her mouth.
The look of satisfaction in her eyes.
No.
Fear didn't look like that.
Fear looked like chaos.
Fear looked like panic.
Fear looked like the face of a woman who has just watched her sister's daughter collapse on the floor.
"I'll find out the truth," I said.
"I hope you do."
"I will."
I walked out of the interview room and found Detective Miller waiting for me in the hallway.
"Did you get any answers?" she asked.
"Not yet," I said.
"Are you going to talk to your mother-in-law?"
"Yes."
"She's in Florida, right?"
"Fort Lauderdale."
Detective Miller nodded.
"I'll be there in two days," I said.
"Alone?"
"No. I need you to come with me."
She looked at me, surprised.
"You want me to come with you?"
"Yes. I need to have someone with me who isn't family."
"I'll have to clear it with my boss."
May you like
"Fine. Just come with me."
"I'll see what I can do."
