Chapter 4 - THE BLUE PILLSThe paramedic who examined Mom was named Tessa. She studied the medication bottle, then asked to speak to me away from the kitchen.
"I can't tell you what she took without testing," she said, "but she's dehydrated and unusually drowsy. We need to get her checked."
"She says the pills make her lose time."
"Tell the doctor exactly that. Bring the bottle."
A deputy, Ben Ortiz, arrived as they wheeled Mom out. Lorena met him in the yard with her phone already open to the photos.
"My husband has military training," she said. "He went after me."
Ortiz listened to both of us and photographed everything: Mom's red scalp, the scattered rice, the damaged partition, Lorena's arm. He didn't promise either side what would happen next.
"I need statements from everybody," he said. "And nobody removes paperwork from this house."
Carlos smiled too easily. "Of course."
At the hospital, a nurse called me into a quiet room while Mom was having blood drawn. The physician wanted a medication history. I supplied the bottle and every detail I could remember.
"We also need her to tell us what happened," he said. "Privately, if she's able."
For the first time in years, Mom was given a question Lorena couldn't answer for her.
An hour later, I stood by the vending machines when a woman in a plain navy jacket approached. She introduced herself as Detective Maya Chen from the county sheriff's office.
"Deputy Ortiz asked me to review the financial documents," she said.
"Good. My signature's forged."
"That's one possibility. I need the originals."
She paused, checking a notification on her phone. "Lorena just filed a complaint against you. She's asking for a protective order."
"She poured food on my mother."
"The facts will matter. Don't give anybody another reason to question yours."
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My phone rang. The caller ID showed MOM'S LANDLINE.
But Mom was asleep in a hospital bed, and nobody who belonged in our house was supposed to be there.
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