Chapter 4: Saturday Morning
I didn't sleep.
By six in the morning I was dressed, my work bag packed, the ziplock sealed inside an outer pocket.
I had replayed the recording four more times.
Each time, Evelyn's voice landed the same way — not angry, not frightened, just managing.
The way she managed everything in that house.
I heard Arthur moving in the kitchen at half past six.
The coffee maker clicked on.
A cabinet opened and closed.
I walked downstairs.
He was standing at the counter with his back to me, still in his robe, pouring coffee as if it were any other Saturday morning.
He didn't hear me come in.
I pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down.
He turned around.
The mug nearly left his hand.
"Rebecca." He recovered fast — I had to give him that.
"You're up early.
Sleep all right?"
"Fine," I said.
"You?"
"Like a log." He set the mug down and reached for a second one.
"Coffee?"
"No thank you."
He poured his own cup and leaned against the counter, watching me with the careful stillness of a man deciding how much he needed to explain.
"How's Chloe?" I asked.
A flicker.
Gone in half a second.
"Still asleep, I think.
She came in late.
You know how she is."
"I do," I said.
He nodded slowly.
"She drank your juice, I noticed.
I hope that was all right.
I left it for you in case you were thirsty."
There it was.
The story, already assembled and ready.
"That was thoughtful," I said.
He smiled.
The same smile from the doorway the night before.
"I just want you to feel at home here, Rebecca.
You're family."
My phone was in my jacket pocket.
I had not hit record.
I didn't need to.
I already had what I needed from last night.
What I needed now was something different.
"Arthur," I said, "can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"When did Mom get to Richmond?"
The pause was less than a second.
But it was there.
"Yesterday afternoon.
Why?"
"She texted me late last night," I said.
"Just checking in.
I thought it was sweet."
"She worries," he said.
"You know Evelyn."
"I do," I said again.
I stood up, picked up my bag, and smiled at him the same way he had smiled at me.
"I'm going to run some errands before David gets home.
Tell Chloe I hope she feels better."
I walked out the front door, got into my car, and drove six blocks before I pulled over.
My hands were shaking now.
They hadn't shaken in the closet, or in the guest room, or at the kitchen table.
They shook now, in the car, alone, where no one could see.
I gave them thirty seconds.
Then I picked up my phone and called my friend Nora.
Nora had been my closest friend since college.
She was also a registered nurse who worked urgent care on weekends.
She picked up on the second ring.
"Rebecca?
It's seven in the morning."
"I know.
I need a favor.
A big one.
And I need you to not ask me too many questions yet."
A pause.
"Are you safe?"
"Yes.
But I need to know what's in something.
A residue.
From a glass."
Another pause.
May you like
Longer.
"How soon can you get to the clinic?"
