Page 34 of Dark Ugly Places

“Who are you talking to?”

I swivel around. Emmy stands in a tee shirt and sweats, eating a bowl of cereal. She stares at me, chewing, her eyes wide and cautious.

“Myself. I’m talking to myself.”

“Who is Martha?”

“Emmy, not now, please. I have a migraine.”

I pinch my eyes shut. “I need my Topamax, but I’m all out. Can you find some? Please, Emmy. I’m in a lot of pain.”

She waits a beat, staring with suspicion before turning and trotting off to the kitchen. Moments later, she returns with an older prescription bottle and a glass of water.

“You forgot your meds? You never do that.”

“Yeah.” I rummage out two little pink pills and knock them back. Emmy is still watching me. “I know.”

“So?”

I peek one eye open. “So what?”

“Where did you go?”

Where did we go? We were gone all night. Until morning, in fact.

“I had to run some errands, that’s all.”

Emmy nods and chews. Her eyes big. “That’s cool.”

“What’s cool? What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Just that, well … you’re a really bad liar.”

“I’m not lying. I got groceries.”

Emmy shrugs. “Sure. If you say so. But your note was really bizarre. Like, I almost woke up and called the cops.”

I pause a second, unsure of what the note says. “Where is it?”

Emmy produces a scrap of paper from her pocket. For some reason, I expect Martha to have written to me. But the note is to Emmy.

Rough night. Your mom is going to feel pretty shitty in the morning. Bring her these.

My heart begins to race again.

“The note was with your pills. I heard you throwing up. But I figured you were hung over.”

Hung over? What game is she playing this time? I shudder, unsure of why Martha would have left Emmy with my pills, only to destroy the rest.

“Well, I am not hung over. I have a migraine.”

“Well, next time, don’t skip your meds.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

I notice the bottle then.

One bottle. Not Topamax, I realize when I spread them out on the counter to count. They’re tramadol for pain.