Chapter 2 - The Pills Were Never Prescribed to JulianNathaniel rode to the hospital with Julian.
Coraline did not come with them.
Police asked her to remain at the house.
That fact alone changed something inside Nathaniel.
For almost three years, Coraline had occupied the space beside him automatically.
School meetings.
Business dinners.
Doctor appointments.
Family vacations.
Even the anniversary of Mara’s death.
She had arrived in Nathaniel’s life during the period when he was most exhausted.
His first wife had died from an aggressive illness when Julian was six.
There had been no scandal.
No hidden conspiracy.
Just cancer.
Fast.
Cruel.
Final.
Nathaniel spent the following year functioning like a machine.
Work.
Hospital bills.
School lunches.
Grief counseling.
Then Coraline appeared.
Calm.
Competent.
Never demanding.
She seemed to understand exactly how much space Nathaniel could tolerate.
Eventually she filled all of it.
Now Julian sat on a hospital bed while a nurse examined his mouth and hands.
“Did you swallow any pills?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Julian looked toward Nathaniel.
“I spit one out.”
Nathaniel’s chest tightened.
“One got in your mouth?”
Julian nodded.
“She pushed it against my lips.”
“Did you swallow?”
“No.”
“I bit her.”
Nathaniel almost smiled.
Not because any of this was funny.
Because Julian sounded ashamed.
“You did what you needed to do.”
The doctor ordered observation and precautionary testing.
The pills recovered from the carpet were sent for identification.
Two hours later, a physician returned.
“They’re prescription sedatives.”
Nathaniel felt heat rise behind his eyes.
“For children?”
“No.”
“They were prescribed to an adult.”
“Who?”
“Police can verify the prescription record, but the bottle recovered at the house appears to belong to Coraline Arden.”
Nathaniel stared at the floor.
Julian whispered:
“She said it would make me calm.”
Nathaniel turned.
“Tell me exactly what happened.”
Julian held the edge of his blanket.
“I found the papers.”
“When?”
“After lunch.”
“Was Coraline home?”
“She was upstairs.”
“I opened the bag because I thought my school folder was in it.”
Julian’s eyes filled.
“I know I shouldn’t go through people’s stuff.”
“That is not what matters right now.”
“I saw Grandpa’s name.”
“So you kept reading.”
Julian nodded.
“There were pages with numbers.”
“Then a page said Rourke.”
“And one said controlling interest.”
Nathaniel’s throat tightened.
Julian was bright.
Too bright sometimes.
Mara had taught him to look up words he didn’t know instead of skipping them.
“What did you do?”
“I took pictures.”
Nathaniel leaned forward.
“With what?”
“My tablet.”
“Where is it?”
Julian looked nervous.
“She took it.”
Nathaniel’s stomach dropped.
“Coraline?”
“Yes.”
“She came downstairs and saw me.”
“What did she say?”
“At first nothing.”
“Then she asked what I saw.”
“I said Grandpa’s signature.”
“She grabbed the papers.”
“Then my tablet.”
Julian’s breathing quickened.
Nathaniel placed a hand over his.
“You’re safe.”
“She kept saying I misunderstood.”
“Then she said I was getting worked up.”
“What happened next?”
“She got the pills.”
Nathaniel’s jaw tightened.
“She said one would help me stop panicking.”
“Were you panicking?”
Julian looked confused.
“No.”
“I was mad.”
“That’s different.”
“I told her I was telling you.”
Julian swallowed.
“That’s when she grabbed me.”
Nathaniel looked away.
For three years, he had promised Julian that no second marriage would ever make him feel replaced.
He had asked questions.
Watched interactions.
Checked school reports.
And still something had happened under his roof that he had not seen.
His phone vibrated.
Detective Lila Bennett.
Nathaniel stepped into the hallway.
“We have the business bag,” she said.
“Coraline tried to claim attorney-client privilege over the contents.”
“She’s not my attorney.”
“We’re sorting that out.”
“What about the pills?”
“Prescription is hers.”
“Any explanation?”
“She says Julian was having what she believed was a panic episode and she offered one of her medications without thinking.”
Nathaniel closed his eyes.
“Without thinking.”
“That’s her statement.”
“She also says she experienced a dissociative episode immediately afterward.”
“Meaning the memory loss?”
“Yes.”
Nathaniel laughed without humor.
“Convenient.”
Bennett paused.
“There’s another issue.”
“What?”
“The documents in the bag.”
Nathaniel straightened.
“Have you read them?”
“Not beyond what’s necessary for the immediate investigation.”
“Some may involve corporate matters rather than criminal conduct.”
“But one item could be relevant.”
“What item?”
“A second phone.”
Nathaniel remembered it.
“There are messages on the lock screen.”
“With who?”
“Contact is saved as G.”
His heartbeat changed.
Nathaniel had an uncle named Gideon Arden.
Chairman of Arden Consolidated.
His father’s younger brother.
“What do the messages say?”
“The preview shows one from this morning.”
Bennett read it.
If the boy saw the assignment pages, get them back before Nathaniel returns.
Nathaniel stopped breathing.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“And another message.”
“What?”
This one had arrived twelve minutes before Nathaniel entered the house.
G: If he starts repeating what he saw, you know what we discussed.
Nathaniel looked through the hospital-room window at his son.
Julian sat drinking apple juice.
“What did they discuss?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Nathaniel walked back inside.
Julian looked up.
“Dad?”
“Did you save those pictures anywhere?”
Coraline had taken the tablet.
Maybe deleted them.
Maybe destroyed everything.
Julian’s face changed.
“I think so.”
“How?”
“When Mom was sick, she made me turn on automatic backup because I kept losing school pictures.”
Mara.
Even dead, she had left small protections everywhere.
Nathaniel opened Julian’s cloud account from his phone.
Recent uploads appeared.
Homework.
A photo of their dog.
A blurry picture of cereal.
Then four images from that afternoon.
Nathaniel opened the first.
The page was slightly crooked.
But readable.
ARCADIA RESTORATION TRUST — BENEFICIAL OWNERSHIP SCHEDULE.
Nathaniel zoomed in.
ARDEN FAMILY BENEFICIAL INTEREST: 48.6%.
ROURKE BENEFICIARY INTEREST: 51.4%.
He felt the blood leave his face.
Julian had not misunderstood.
The company Nathaniel believed his family controlled appeared, on paper, to belong primarily to someone else.
Then Nathaniel opened the second photograph.
At the bottom of the page was his father’s signature.
May you like
And beneath it, handwritten in Thomas Arden’s unmistakable script:
This corrects what our family stole.
Related Stories
