I thought about the previous three weeks.
The afternoons I could barely stay awake.
The appointment I had missed because Daniel said I was “too confused to go.”
The two times he told Rachel I had accidentally taken an extra dose.
The bottle that seemed to empty faster than it should have.
“I don’t know.”
Rachel nodded.
“That’s okay.”
But her expression told me she knew something I didn’t.
Later I learned that when Rachel had reached her car minutes earlier, she had opened her tablet to finish my visit notes.
That was when she noticed a pattern.
During visits when she personally counted and documented my medications, the numbers were consistent.
By the next visit, several counts sometimes didn’t match Daniel’s written log.
And almost every unexplained bruise, reopened dressing, episode of unusual sedation, or sudden worsening had happened after Daniel had been alone with me.
