Chapter 3
Morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of Lily’s room, doing little to warm the chill that seemed permanently settled in the corners. Arthur sat in the same armchair, his eyes bloodshot from a night spent pacing the hallway outside his daughter’s door. Lily was still asleep, her pale face looking even smaller against the stark white of the medical patch.
The soft chime of the front doorbell broke the morning quiet. Arthur hurried down the stairs before Elena could emerge from the master suite. Opening the door, he was met by Dr. Evans, a primary care physician with tired eyes and a battered leather medical bag.
"Arthur," Dr. Evans said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "I received your voicemail from last night. How is Lily?"
"Not better," Arthur said, leading the doctor toward the kitchen table where the untouched glass of milk still sat, covered now with a small saucer to keep out dust. "In fact, I think she's getting worse, Dr. Evans. And I need to know why."
Dr. Evans removed his coat, placing it over the back of a chair. His gaze fell upon the covered glass on the counter. Without a word, he pulled a pair of sterile latex gloves from his pocket, snapped them onto his hands, and carefully lifted the saucer. He leaned down, sniffing the contents of the glass, then dipped a sterile cotton swab into the white liquid before sealing the swab inside a small plastic vial.
"I ran a full panel of her blood work yesterday morning, Arthur," Dr. Evans said, his voice dropping to a grave whisper. "The results came back late last night. That is why I came over this morning. Lily's system is showing traces of a mild sedative—something that depresses the central nervous system, slows the heart rate, and causes prolonged lethargy and confusion."
Arthur felt the floor drop away beneath his feet. The breath left his lungs in a sharp rush. "A sedative? Why would anyone give a seven-year-old child a sedative?"
"To keep her subdued, Arthur," Dr. Evans said, looking him straight in the eye. "To keep her compliant, sleeping, and dependent on care. Who prepares her evening drinks?"
Before Arthur could answer, the soft pad of footsteps sounded on the stairs. Elena appeared in the doorway, dressed in a simple beige cardigan and dark trousers, looking every bit the devoted stepmother. She stopped short, her eyes darting from the vial in Dr. Evans's hand to Arthur’s pale, furious face.
May you like
"Good morning, Dr. Evans," Elena said, her voice steady, though her fingers clutched the hem of her cardigan tightly. "I didn't realize we had a house call scheduled. Is something wrong with Lily's recovery?"
Arthur stood up slowly, the chair scraping loudly against the hardwood floor. The veil of doubt was gone, replaced by a cold, protective rage. "We are going to find out right now, Elena," Arthur said, his voice vibrating with suppressed fury. "Dr. Evans is taking this milk to the lab, and we are going to find out exactly why my daughter has been sleeping her life away in this house."
