Chapter 2 - DRINK ITI raised the glass.
Vanessa relaxed.
The smell of orange filled my nose.
Beneath it was something unfamiliar.
Faint.
Bitter.
My hand moved toward my lips.
Noah remained behind the door.
I gave him the smallest shake of my head.
Stay back.
He understood.
Children notice quiet signals adults ignore.
“Good,” Vanessa said. “Drink all of it.”
I stopped.
“What happens after I finish?”
“You’ll feel better.”
“Will I sleep?”
Her smile weakened.
“You need rest.”
“I slept fourteen hours yesterday.”
“You were tired.”
“I have been tired every afternoon since you began bringing me these drinks.”
Her expression changed.
Only slightly.
“Are you accusing me of something?”
“I am asking a question.”
“You forget what you eat.”
“I remember this glass.”
She lowered her voice.
“Caleb is already worried about your behavior.”
“Has he said that?”
“He doesn’t want to frighten you.”
“How considerate.”
Vanessa straightened.
My sarcasm irritated her.
For weeks, she had spoken to me as if my age had removed my right to irony.
She pushed the glass closer to my mouth.
“Drink it.”
“No.”
The word felt larger than my voice.
Vanessa stared at me.
“What did you say?”
“I said no.”
“You’re being difficult again.”
“I am deciding what enters my body.”
“You are not capable of making every medical decision.”
“Who decided that?”
“The evaluation.”
“What evaluation?”
She glanced toward the desk near the far window.
A black folder rested there.
I had seen it before.
Whenever I asked, Vanessa called it household paperwork.
Now I understood it concerned me.
She touched the glass.
“Take your medicine.”
“This is orange juice.”
“It contains what you need.”
“What did you put in it?”
Her eyes became cold.
“Something to help you.”
“Then show me the packet.”
Vanessa closed her fist around it.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t explain medical instructions to someone who won’t remember them.”
The cruelty was deliberate.
She wanted me to doubt myself.
That had become her most effective weapon.
Not shouting.
Not threats.
Certainty.
She stated false things so calmly that even I sometimes searched my memory for the error.
Behind the door, Noah raised his phone.
He aimed its camera at us.
Vanessa did not notice.
I looked at the glass again.
If I threw it, the evidence would scatter.
If I drank it, I might lose consciousness before help arrived.
I needed the contents preserved.
But I also needed to stay awake.
Vanessa wrapped her fingers around my wrist.
“Drink.”
May you like
I tightened my hand.
Then I struck the crystal glass against the edge of the silver tray.
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