They weren’t accusing Daniel of poisoning me.
There was no evidence of that.
What they had was simpler.
And disturbing enough.
My prescribed pain medication counts repeatedly came up short.
My anti-nausea medication counts sometimes did too.
Daniel’s handwritten log did not match pharmacy refill dates.
Twice he had told Rachel I had taken medication incorrectly.
I remembered neither event.
Then Rachel asked something that made my stomach tighten.
“Emily, when Daniel said you took an extra dose, did you actually see the medication before you took it?”
“No.”
“Who gave it to you?”
“Daniel.”
The investigation was no longer about only one reopened wound.
But we still did not understand why Daniel seemed so invested in making me appear unable to handle my own treatment.
Three days later, Monica found the first answer.
Daniel had contacted our bank.
Not to report fraud.
Not to ask about medical bills.
