Chapter 6
I didn't know what to say.
My twelve-year-old daughter had just told me she saw Vanessa put something in my water.
The same water I drank before collapsing.
The same water I remembered tasting strangely bitter.
I held Grace's hands.
"Sweetheart, I need you to tell me exactly what you saw."
She looked frightened.
"Am I in trouble?"
I shook my head immediately.
"No."
I brushed a curl away from her forehead.
"You're helping me understand what happened."
She swallowed.
Then began speaking.
"It was the morning you got sick."
I nodded.
"Okay."
"I came downstairs because I couldn't find my science notebook."
My heart tightened.
Grace continued.
"Vanessa was in the kitchen."
I felt Renee move closer.
"She had your glass on the counter."
I swallowed.
"What did you see?"
Grace looked down.
"She opened a little bottle."
My hands began shaking.
"What kind of bottle?"
"I don't know."
She frowned.
"It was small and brown."
I closed my eyes.
A brown bottle.
Something poured into my water.
Grace continued.
"She looked around before putting it away."
I felt sick.
"Did she see you?"
Grace shook her head.
"I was standing near the hallway."
I nodded.
"What happened next?"
"Dad came into the kitchen."
My heart pounded.
"And?"
Grace's voice dropped.
"He asked if it was ready."
I couldn't breathe.
I stared at her.
"Are you sure that's what he said?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
My chest tightened.
"What did Vanessa say?"
Grace looked confused.
"She said, 'Just make sure she drinks it.'"
The room seemed to spin.
I gripped the edge of the mattress.
Renee immediately reached for me.
"Naomi?"
I nodded weakly.
"I'm okay."
But I wasn't.
My husband.
The man who promised to protect me.
He had apparently known.
He had been part of it.
Grace began crying.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
I pulled her close.
"Baby, listen to me."
She looked at me.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
"But if I had said something—"
"No."
My voice was firm.
"You are a child. The adults were responsible for keeping you safe."
She sobbed.
I hugged her tightly.
I wanted to erase the memory from her mind.
I wanted her biggest worry to be homework or which movie to watch.
Instead, she had witnessed something that might have nearly killed her mother.
I looked at Renee.
"Call Angela."
She nodded immediately.
Within an hour, Angela arrived with an investigator.
They spoke to Grace carefully.
They explained that she wasn't in trouble.
They asked her to describe what she remembered in her own words.
I stayed nearby because she wanted me there.
At one point, Grace reached for my hand.
I held it.
The investigator listened.
Then asked whether Grace remembered where Vanessa placed the bottle.
Grace nodded.
"In the cabinet above the coffee machine."
My heart raced.
The investigator wrote it down.
When the interview ended, Grace looked exhausted.
Renee took her downstairs for something to eat.
I remained in bed staring at the wall.
Angela sat beside me.
"Naomi."
I looked at her.
"Do you believe her?"
Angela answered gently.
"I believe she's describing what she remembers."
I swallowed.
"Will that be enough?"
"Her statement is important. Investigators will look for independent evidence."
I nodded.
She continued.
"They're also reviewing your medical test results."
My heart raced.
"Have they found anything?"
"Not everything is confirmed yet."
I looked away.
I hated waiting.
I hated not knowing.
Most of all, I hated that Grace had been pulled into this nightmare.
Angela touched my shoulder.
"Naomi, you're doing the right thing."
I swallowed.
"I don't feel strong."
She smiled sadly.
"You don't have to feel strong every minute."
I looked at her.
She continued.
"You just have to keep taking the next safe step."
I nodded.
That afternoon, Dr. Brooks returned.
He had received additional laboratory information.
My stomach tightened.
"Doctor?"
He sat down.
"Naomi, we now have more information about the substance detected in your system."
I gripped the blanket.
He explained that the testing was consistent with exposure to a sedating medication I hadn't been prescribed.
He was careful not to claim exactly how it entered my body.
But the result was serious.
My hands began trembling.
"Could that medication have caused my collapse?"
"Yes."
My eyes filled.
He continued.
"Your symptoms were consistent with its effects."
I stared at him.
"Could I have died?"
He paused.
"Severe exposure to certain sedating substances can be dangerous, especially without prompt treatment."
My stomach turned.
I thought about Grace finding me on the floor.
I thought about Marcus standing over me.
I thought about Vanessa smiling beside my hospital bed.
Then I started crying.
Dr. Brooks handed me a tissue.
"I'm glad you're recovering."
I nodded through tears.
"Me too."
Later that evening, Renee returned to my room.
Grace had fallen asleep in a waiting area.
Renee looked exhausted.
"She's been through so much."
I nodded.
"I know."
She sat beside me.
Then her phone rang.
She checked the screen.
Her expression changed.
"What?" I asked.
She answered.
"Hello?"
I watched her face.
Confusion.
Then shock.
Then fear.
She ended the call.
"Renee?"
She looked at me.
"That was the investigator."
My heart raced.
"What happened?"
"They searched the house."
I sat upright.
"And?"
"They found a small brown bottle in the kitchen cabinet."
My breath caught.
Renee continued.
"They're sending it for testing."
I closed my eyes.
Grace had remembered correctly.
At least, the bottle was where she said it would be.
My hands trembled.
"Did they find anything else?"
Renee nodded.
"Several documents."
My stomach tightened.
"What documents?"
She looked at me.
"Copies of your property deed."
I swallowed.
"And?"
"Insurance paperwork."
My heart raced.
Then Renee said something that made the entire room seem cold.
"They also found a handwritten schedule."
I stared at her.
"What kind of schedule?"
She swallowed.
"It listed the date of your collapse."
My chest tightened.
"Before it happened?"
Renee nodded.
"And beside the date, someone wrote two words."
I could barely speak.
"What words?"
She looked at me with tears in her eyes.
"Phase one."
I stopped breathing.
May you like
Phase one.
If making me unconscious was only the first phase, what had they planned next?
