Chapter 3 - ROOM TWELVE
The emergency room smelled like sanitizer and burnt coffee.
Daniel sat beside Owen's bed while a nurse checked the boy's blood pressure for the third time.
Sarah paced near the window.
"He keeps getting sleepier," she said.
Dr. Patel nodded, calm but serious. "We're running blood work and toxicology. Until we know what he had, we watch everything."
Daniel handed her the half-empty tea glass sealed inside a clean food container from the car.
"Don't throw that away."
"We won't."
His phone buzzed.
MOM.
He ignored it.
It buzzed again.
Then a text appeared.
YOU ARE MAKING A TERRIBLE MISTAKE.
A second followed.
THINK ABOUT WHAT THIS WILL DO TO THE FAMILY.
Daniel stared at the screen.
Not one word asking how Owen was doing.
Sarah saw his face. "Her?"
He nodded.
"Block her."
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because people say useful things when they think they're still in control."
Sarah studied him as though she had not seen this version of her husband before.
Maybe she hadn't.
For years Daniel had been the peacemaker. The son who changed subjects. The husband who said, She means well. The father who believed family problems should stay inside the family.
Then Owen stirred.
"Mom?"
Sarah rushed to him.
His small hand reached for hers.
Dr. Patel returned ten minutes later holding a tablet.
Her expression had changed.
"Mr. and Mrs. Mercer, I need to ask you both something."
Daniel stood.
"Has Owen been prescribed any medication recently?"
"No," Sarah said.
"Any sleep aids? Anxiety medication? Anything at all?"
"No."
May you like
Dr. Patel looked down at the results.
"Then we have a problem."
