Chapter 2 - Cold Eyes and Sirens
The plastic bottle bounced across the floorboards and came to rest right against Evelyn’s polished black loafer. Mark stared at the yellow cylinder. The label had been scraped, paper remnants clinging to the sticky residue, but the white cap lay beside the sofa leg, snapped open.
"What is that?" Mark’s breath caught in his throat. He scooped the bottle up. "What did she take? Evelyn, what did she take?"
"How should I know what your wife puts in her mouth?" Evelyn’s tone was icy, but her fork paused half an inch above the plate. "She has been complaining of headaches all week. Malingering, as usual. If she took something, she did it out of spite to ruin my visit."
Clara’s cries were growing raspy, the infant choking on her own saliva. Mark rushed to the crib, lifting the baby against his chest with one arm while snatching his phone from his pocket with the other. Clara was burning up, her cheeks blotched crimson, her diaper soaked clear through her cotton onesie.
"Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?" the dispatcher's mechanical voice crackled through the speaker.
"My wife is unresponsive," Mark gasped, pacing the space between the sofa and the crib, rocking Clara against his ribs. "She’s unconscious, skin is clammy, shallow breathing. There’s an empty pill bottle. We need an ambulance immediately. 742 Elm Street. Please hurry."
Evelyn finally stood up, smoothing her slacks. There was no terror in her eyes, only a sharp, calculating annoyance. "You are overreacting. The neighbors will see the flashing lights. Do you have any idea how humiliating this will be for our family? Cancel the call, Mark. Give her some black coffee and let her sleep it off."
"Shut up," Mark snapped, a venom in his voice he had never directed at his mother in thirty-four years of life. "Shut your mouth, or I swear to God, I will drag you out of this house myself."
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Evelyn blinked, recoiling slightly at the bite in his words. Then a cold, mocking smile touched her lips. "You always were weak, Mark. Just like your father. Blaming everyone else when things fall apart."
Outside, the faint, wailing howl of a siren cut through the quiet suburban afternoon, growing louder by the second. Elena’s breathing hitched suddenly, her body stiffening in a sudden, violent spasm.
