Chapter 3 - The Bitter Pill
I walked back into Hailey’s room on trembling legs. The harsh fluorescent lights washed out her already pale skin, making the dark circles beneath her eyes look like bruises. An IV line was taped to the back of her fragile hand, pumping saline and pain medication into her veins.
"Mom?" she whispered, her voice barely louder than the hum of the heart monitor. "What did the doctor say? Am I dying?"
I pulled a chair right up to the edge of the mattress, gathering her cold, trembling fingers into mine. "No, sweetie. You are not going to die. I’m right here. They’re going to help you, okay? But Hailey... look at me. I need you to be completely honest with me."
She blinked, fear flickering across her hazel eyes. "About what?"
"The doctor found something in your stomach. A small metal capsule. Hailey, did you swallow something?"
She stared at me, her chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths. Then, tears welled up and spilled over her temples into her hair. "I didn't want to, Mom. I told him it made my throat burn."
A cold spike of adrenaline pierced my heart. "Told who, Hailey? Who told you to swallow it?"
Hailey flinched, shrinking back into the thin hospital pillow as if expecting a blow. "Dad," she whispered, her voice trembling with sheer terror. "He said... he said it was a special vitamin. An imported cognitive booster to help my memory. He told me it was very expensive, and if I told you, you’d make him return it because you didn't care about my future."
My blood ran instantly ice-cold. "Mark gave it to you?"
"Every Tuesday night," Hailey sobbed, clutching her stomach as another wave of spasms hit her. "He would bring me a glass of milk and make me swallow the pill right in front of him. If I hesitated, he got so angry... he yelled that I was ungrateful. Two weeks ago, the pill was heavier. It smelled weird, like burned plastic. When I gagged, he forced my jaw open and held my mouth shut until I drank the water."
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Nausea surged up into my throat so violently I had to grip the metal bedrail to keep from collapsing. All those times Mark had yelled at me for offering to drive her to the clinic. All those arguments where he called her dramatic, manipulative, a liar. He wasn't trying to save money on medical bills.
He was waiting for her to die.
