Chapter 2: The Doctor's Missing Prescription
I found Vanessa in the driveway.
She was standing beside her car, speaking rapidly into her phone.
When she noticed me, she ended the call.
“Who were you talking to?”” I asked.
“My sister.””
“At ten thirty at night?””
“Daniel, I don't need permission to make a phone call.””
She opened the driver's door.
I stepped in front of it.
“Where are you going?””
“To get some air.””
“Your mother-in-law may have been given the wrong medication for weeks, and you're going for a drive?””
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
“Your mother has been making our lives miserable for years. You just refuse to see it.””
“Then explain the medication.””
“I already did.””
“No, you didn't.””
She stared at me for several seconds.
Then she said something I would remember for the rest of my life.
“Maybe if you had spent less time worshipping your mother and more time being a husband, we wouldn't be in this situation.””
I stepped back.
Not because her words hurt.
Because I suddenly understood that she wasn't going to explain anything voluntarily.
“Don't leave,” I said.
“The police may need to speak with you.””
She laughed bitterly.
“You're threatening me now?””
“I'm asking you to stay.””
“Then ask your mother why she keeps things from you.””
She got into the car and locked the doors.
I watched her reverse out of the driveway.
I didn't chase her.
Instead, I returned inside and locked the front door.
My mother was sitting at the dining table when I came back.
Nia had brought her a cup of warm tea.
“Where's Vanessa?”” Mom asked.
“She went out.””
My mother nodded slowly.
Then she looked at the empty chair opposite her.
“She's angry with me.””
I pulled out the chair and sat down.
“Mom, I need you to tell me everything you remember.””
She wrapped both hands around her teacup.
“I don't remember everything.””
“That's okay.””
“I remember waking up in the afternoon. I remember feeling like I'd slept for days. Sometimes I couldn't find the right words.””
I leaned forward.
“Did you tell Vanessa?””
“Many times.””
“What did she say?””
My mother looked toward the staircase.
“She said it was normal. That I was getting old.””
Nia placed her hand over Grandma's.
“Grandma, do you remember when I found you crying in the bathroom?””
My mother nodded.
“You told me your head felt strange.””
“You said you were afraid to tell Dad because Mom would get upset.””
My mother lowered her eyes.
“I didn't want to cause trouble in your marriage.””
I felt a sharp ache behind my ribs.
My mother had spent her entire life protecting me.
And somehow, I had allowed her to believe that telling me the truth would damage my marriage.
“Mom,” I said, reaching across the table, “you are never the trouble.””
She looked at me.
Then she began to cry.
At 11:15 p.m., we arrived at the emergency department.
A nurse named Patricia took my mother's medication bottles and asked several questions.
“What time did she last take a tablet?””
“About eight this morning,” I answered.
“Who administered it?””
“My wife usually prepares her medication.””
Patricia looked up.
“Usually?””
“My daughter sometimes helps her.””
“Has your mother taken anything from the questionable bottle tonight?””
“No. We stopped as soon as we discovered it.””
Patricia nodded.
“Good. The doctor will review the medication and determine what testing is necessary.””
My mother sat quietly in the examination room, wearing a thin hospital gown over her clothes.
I stood beside her bed.
Nia sat in a chair near the wall, her sneakers dangling above the floor.
A few minutes later, a physician entered.
He introduced himself as Dr. Patel and carefully examined the medication.
He photographed the labels, recorded the tablet descriptions, and arranged for the pills to be identified.
He also ordered blood tests and a neurological assessment because my mother's confusion had worsened suddenly.
“Daniel,” he said, pulling me aside, “we shouldn't assume this is dementia. Sudden changes in memory can have several causes, including medication effects, infections, and metabolic problems.””
“Could someone have deliberately changed her prescription?””
He paused.
“That's something we need to investigate. The tablets are being checked. For now, we'll keep her under observation.””
I nodded.
Then he asked to speak with my mother privately.
I stepped into the corridor with Nia.
She was staring at her phone.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?””
She nodded.
But her eyes were red.
“Dad, can I tell you something?””
“Of course.””
She hesitated.
“Mom told me not to tell you about Grandma.””
My stomach tightened.
“What do you mean?””
“Two weeks ago, I saw her take the white pills out of Grandma's bottle. She put them in a little bag.””
“Did she say why?””
“She said Grandma was taking too many and that she was going to organize them.””
I looked at my daughter.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
Nia's eyes filled.
“Because she said if I made you worry, you might lose your job. She said Grandma's problems were already making everyone miserable.””
I crouched in front of her.
“Nia, listen to me. You are twelve years old. None of this is your responsibility.””
“But I knew something was wrong.””
“You did the right thing by telling me.””
She wiped her cheek.
“Are you going to divorce Mom?””
The question hit harder than I expected.
I glanced toward the examination room.
“I don't know what happens to our family yet,” I answered honestly.
“But I know I'm going to keep you and Grandma safe.””
Nia nodded.
Then she reached into her backpack.
“There's something else.””
She pulled out a small notebook with a pink cover.
“I started writing things down because Grandma kept asking the same questions.””
I opened it.
The first page contained a date.
Then a list.
Monday: Grandma couldn't remember where the kitchen was.
Tuesday: Grandma slept through lunch.
Wednesday: Grandma said her hands felt heavy.
Thursday: Mom said I wasn't allowed to tell Dad because he was already stressed.
I turned another page.
There were more entries.
Some were written in pencil. Others in blue ink.
Then I reached the final page.
It contained a sentence that made my hands go cold.
Friday: Mom said Grandma won't be a problem after Dad signs the house papers.
I stared at the words.
“Nia, did you hear her say that?””
Nia nodded.
“She was talking to Aunt Claire on the phone.””
“Did you hear anything else?””
“She said something about the house belonging to us.””
I closed the notebook.
My mother had inherited the house from my father. It was a modest two-story property in Connecticut, but it was fully paid off and worth considerably more than Vanessa and I had ever owned.
Mom had always said she wanted it to remain in the family.
She had never discussed transferring it.
Not once.
At 12:40 a.m., Dr. Patel returned.
“The initial assessment shows some abnormalities, but we need further results before reaching a conclusion,” he said.
Then he lowered his voice.
“We've also identified a concern with the tablets. They do not match the medication listed on the prescription label. Our pharmacy team is working to identify them.””
I gripped the edge of the chair.
“Could they explain her symptoms?””
“Possibly. We cannot establish that yet. We'll review the exact substance, dosage, and duration of exposure.””
He looked at my mother.
“Has anyone else been managing her medications?””
I hesitated.
“My wife.””
He made a note.
“Please provide the names of everyone who had access to her medication. We may need to document that as part of the investigation.””
I nodded.
Then he added something unexpected.
“There's another issue. Your mother's regular prescription was changed in our electronic records three weeks ago.””
I felt my stomach drop.
“By whom?””
“The system shows a request submitted through a patient-authorized portal.””
“My mother doesn't use a computer.””
Dr. Patel looked at me.
“Was anyone helping her manage her medical accounts?””
I didn't answer immediately.
Vanessa handled most of the household paperwork.
She paid bills, scheduled appointments, and organized insurance documents.
I had trusted her with all of it.
“Can you show me the request?”” I asked.
“Not here. You'll need to speak with the medical records department. We can preserve the relevant information for the appropriate investigation.””
He paused.
“Daniel, I want to be clear. Your mother is receiving care, and we're taking this seriously. But please don't confront anyone or attempt to investigate the medication yourself.””
I nodded.
At 1:18 a.m., my phone rang.
Vanessa.
I stepped into the hallway.
“What?”” I answered.
“Where are you?””
“At the hospital.””
“Is your mother still confused?””
“She's being examined.””
A pause.
Then Vanessa said, “Daniel, I need you to come home.””
“Why?””
“Because someone has been in the house.””
My back stiffened.
“What?””
“I just got back. The bedroom drawers are open. Your mother's room has been searched.””
“Did you call the police?””
“No.””
“Then do it.””
“I think someone took something.””
I looked through the glass panel toward my mother's room.
“Vanessa, what exactly is missing?””
Her voice dropped.
“The blue folder.””
I closed my eyes.
“What blue folder?””
“The one with your mother's property documents.””
I didn't respond.
She continued.
“Daniel, you need to listen to me. I found something in that folder before it disappeared.””
“What?””
A long silence followed.
Then she whispered:
“Your mother changed her will.””
I gripped the phone.
“When?””
“Last month.””
“What does it say?””
“Daniel…”
“What does it say?””
Vanessa's breathing became uneven.
“She's left the house to someone else.””
I looked at Nia through the glass.
My daughter was sitting beside her grandmother, gently brushing the hair away from her face.
“Who?”” I asked.
Vanessa didn't answer immediately.
Then she said a name.
May you like
And it wasn't mine.
“She's left everything to Nia.””
