Chapter 2 - The Pills Were Not Ethan’sRebecca did not answer Miles.
She called 911.
Priscilla protested once.
“I didn’t give him anything.”
Rebecca looked at her.
“Then you should want those pills tested.”
That ended the argument.
Paramedics arrived first.
Ethan insisted he had swallowed nothing.
Rebecca believed him.
The paramedic still examined his mouth, pupils, heart rate, and breathing.
“You did the right thing not putting anything in your mouth,” she told him.
Ethan nodded solemnly.
Priscilla stood several feet away, arms wrapped around herself.
A police officer asked her to sit.
She obeyed.
Rebecca watched everything.
Her sister had always been dramatic.
As a teenager, Priscilla could turn a minor argument into a three-day family crisis.
But this was different.
She seemed disoriented.
Not theatrically.
She kept checking the clock.
She asked twice what day it was.
When the officer asked how she arrived at Rebecca’s house, she said:
“I don’t know.”
“Did you drive?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Where is your car?”
“At home.”
“How do you know?”
Priscilla closed her eyes.
“I remember leaving my apartment without it.”
“What happened after that?”
“I went downtown.”
“Where?”
“The bank.”
Rebecca looked up.
“What bank?”
“Fairfield National.”
“Why?”
Priscilla stared at the black bag.
“I got a notice.”
“What notice?”
“A safe-deposit access notice.”
Rebecca felt cold.
The bank where Harold had kept personal records.
Priscilla continued.
“It said Dad left something with release instructions.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Rebecca’s anger sharpened.
“You received something from Dad eleven months after he died and didn’t call me?”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s becoming your favorite answer.”
Priscilla flinched.
The officer intervened.
“Mrs. Bennett—”
“Rebecca.”
“Rebecca, let her finish.”
Priscilla inhaled.
“I remember entering the bank at about ten.”
“What happened?”
“A manager took me downstairs.”
“The bag?”
“Yes.”
“The black bag was in the deposit box?”
Priscilla nodded.
Rebecca stared.
That changed things.
The bag itself belonged to Priscilla, but Harold had apparently placed it in storage before his death.
“Was it locked?”
“No.”
“What was inside?”
“The folder.”
“The pills?”
Priscilla shook her head violently.
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“A letter.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Rebecca’s anger returned.
“You lost Dad’s letter?”
“I don’t remember leaving the bank!”
Priscilla pressed her palms against her temples.
“Last thing I remember clearly is sitting in the lobby.”
The officer asked:
“Did you eat or drink anything?”
“Coffee.”
“From where?”
“The bank has a machine.”
“Did you make it yourself?”
Priscilla frowned.
“No.”
A woman brought it.
“What woman?”
“I thought she worked there.”
Rebecca looked at the officer.
He wrote it down.
The paramedic examining Priscilla requested permission to take her to the hospital.
“You’re having a memory gap that could have a medical cause.”
Priscilla nodded.
“I’ll go.”
Rebecca was surprised.
If this were a performance, Priscilla was committing hard.
Then Ethan whispered:
“Mom?”
Rebecca crouched.
“What happened before I came in?”
He looked at Priscilla.
She looked away.
Ethan said:
“I was upstairs.”
“Doing what?”
“Building the Lego bridge.”
“Okay.”
“I heard the front door.”
“Did Priscilla call you?”
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“I came down.”
He swallowed.
“She was sitting on the floor.”
Rebecca turned.
“Where?”
“By the table.”
“Was she awake?”
“Yes.”
“Talking?”
“She asked where Grandpa was.”
Rebecca’s chest tightened.
Harold had been dead almost a year.
Priscilla covered her face.
“I said Grandpa was dead,” Ethan continued.
“She started crying.”
“And the bag?”
“It was open.”
“Did you open it?”
“No.”
“It was already open?”
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
“I saw the paper with Grandpa’s name.”
Ethan looked ashamed.
“I pulled it out.”
“You’re not in trouble.”
“I read some.”
Rebecca touched his shoulder.
“What did you understand?”
“Not much.”
“But you said it was another will.”
“It said Last Will and Testament.”
“Good.”
He continued.
“Then some pills fell out.”
“From where?”
“A little side pocket.”
Priscilla looked up sharply.
“There wasn’t anything in that pocket at the bank.”
Ethan continued.
“I picked one up.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to see what it was.”
Rebecca nodded.
“And Aunt Priscilla grabbed you?”
“Yes.”
“She yelled?”
“She yelled ‘don’t touch that.’”
“Did she try to put a pill in your mouth?”
“No.”
Rebecca stopped.
That mattered.
“Did she tell you to take one?”
“No.”
“Did she hurt you?”
Ethan hesitated.
“She grabbed hard.”
Priscilla began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Ethan looked at her.
“I know.”
Rebecca felt her certainty fracture.
The scene she had walked into had looked horrifying.
But Ethan’s version was different.
Priscilla had restrained him.
Yes.
Possibly to stop him touching unknown pills.
The deeper danger might not have been Priscilla.
At the hospital, toxicology was ordered.
Ethan was cleared quickly.
Priscilla remained for observation.
Rebecca sat in the corridor with the cream-colored will folder sealed inside a police evidence bag.
Miles called six more times.
Then texted.
Rebecca, Priscilla contacted me this morning in an agitated state. She has been struggling recently. Please do not rely on anything she says until we speak.
Rebecca stared.
He already knew Priscilla had been at the bank.
How?
She had never reached him afterward.
A second message arrived.
Especially if she has shown you documents supposedly belonging to your father.
Rebecca’s skin went cold.
She had told nobody outside the police and hospital.
No one had told Miles about the will.
She typed nothing.
Ten minutes later the doctor returned.
“Rebecca?”
“Yes?”
“Your sister’s preliminary screen shows exposure to a sedating substance.”
Rebecca stood.
“Prescription?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Could it cause memory problems?”
“Yes.”
“How recently?”
“Likely within several hours.”
Rebecca looked through the glass toward Priscilla.
Her sister lay in a hospital bed staring at the ceiling.
The doctor continued.
“Priscilla insists she did not knowingly take anything.”
Rebecca’s phone buzzed again.
Miles.
This time the message contained no warning.
Just one sentence.
Do not let Priscilla destroy your father’s reputation.
Rebecca read it twice.
Then a detective approached.
“Ms. Bennett?”
“Yes?”
“We contacted Fairfield National.”
Rebecca stood straighter.
“They have security footage from this morning.”
“Good.”
The detective’s expression was serious.
“Your sister entered the bank alone.”
May you like
Rebecca waited.
“But she didn’t leave alone.”
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