Chapter 4 - The Boy Who Watched
Daniel came home after midnight with a discharge sheet, a headache from the hospital lights, and no desire to look at the kitchen. The family had left the barbecue food untouched. A bowl of potato salad sat on the counter beneath plastic wrap, absurdly ordinary beside the police evidence tags.
Jake was waiting in the living room. He stood when his father entered, then seemed to forget what he had planned to say.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked.
“I was scared.” Daniel sat on the edge of the sofa and rubbed both hands over his face. “I was trying to understand what was happening. That isn't the same as being mad at you.”
Jake's shoulders dropped a fraction. He told his father that he'd gone into the kitchen to get ice and had seen Vanessa near the drinks. At first, he'd assumed she was adding something harmless. Then she looked toward the house, checked the patio, and used the dropper in a way that made his stomach tighten.
“Why didn't you say something before I picked it up?” Daniel asked, then immediately regretted the question.
“I was coming out. You were already holding it.” Jake's eyes shone. “I thought if I yelled, you'd stop.”
Daniel pulled him into a hug. Jake stayed stiff for a moment, then folded into his father's arms like a much younger child.
“I should have listened to you sooner,” Daniel said.
Jake didn't answer. He had tried to tell his father that Vanessa checked his phone, read his messages, and told him his mother would have been ashamed of him. Daniel had called it adjustment. He had said blended families needed patience.
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Daniel looked toward the hallway where Vanessa's shoes still sat neatly beside the stairs. “Has she ever done anything else that scared you?”
“Dad, I think this started before today.”
