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When we get to the house, I park. Two cars with IVI guards follow, parking their vehicles behind mine. The four men shadow us as I carry a few of the things Willow wanted to bring home with her up the stairs, Willow and Bec behind me.
My cell phone buzzes in my pocket, and I set the bags down, reach in to take it out, meaning to silence it because I need to talk to Bec, but seeing it’s the lab. I stop just outside our door and glance at Willow and Bec.
“I’ll go with Bec,” Willow says after seeing my expression.
I nod and once they’re gone, I answer the call. The technician says hello, reminding me who he is.
“Yes, I know. What did you find?” I ask more curtly than I intend, not sure about anything anymore.
But when he tells me, it still takes me a good minute to process.
“The sodium level was very high. I’ve checked it against…” he continues talking, but I don’t hear any more. Well, no more than one word. “Tamper.”
He’s still talking when I cut him off. “What would the long-term effect of something like this be if a child were to drink these regularly?”
“Regularly?” He sounds surprised but clears his throat. “Well, they’d cause serious stomach pain, and to ingest this much sodium regularly would be detrimental to their health, their growth. Even deadly depending on the dosage.”
My body goes rigid and my heart stops beating, the blood in my veins running cold.
“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice unrecognizable.
“I can test more samples, but I’m sure. It’s why it took me longer than I liked to get back to you. I didn’t want mistakes, not on something like this.”
“How could doctors have missed this?”
“Easily. You see—"
I tune him out. It doesn’t matter. The damage is done. “Thank you,” I say and disconnect the call.
Willow was right. All this time, for more than a year, Bec’s been complaining about her stomach hurting. She hasn’t been getting better, but worse, and not a single doctor, not one specialist, the best of the fucking best, has been able to find a reason.
Salomé was poisoning her. And all while I stood by and did nothing. All under my own roof. Under my nose.
“Bec,” I call out, heading toward her bedroom. I reach it in just a few steps.
“It’s okay,” Willow says to her in a comforting tone, and I hear how I must sound.
I walk into Bec’s bedroom, where I see it as if for the first time. I see the stilted transition from girl to woman in the posters on the walls, the dollhouse in the corner. It’s as if time stopped in the middle of it all.
This poisoning of my baby sister was happening all this time, and I failed to see it. I failed yet again.
“Fuck!”
I walk to the windows and throw them all open. I feel like I’m suffocating. Bec shivers at the cool air. I take several deep breaths before closing the windows and turning to face Willow and my sister, reminding myself to stay calm.
“Those drinks,” I say, sounding hoarse because all this fucking emotion is choking me.
Both Willow and Bec look at me confused.
“Were they open when she gave them to you?”
“Grandmother?”
“Who else?” She flinches at my tone, and I stop myself. “I’m sorry, Bec. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s not you—"
“Why?” Bec asks. “Why are you asking?”
But Willow understands. The confusion in her eyes turns to concern. Not pity. Not victory. There are no victors in this. There is only loss. Only hurt. Only damage to my baby sister.
“She’d open the bottles and give them to me to swallow my vitamins with,” Bec says.
“How long was it going on?”
“I don’t know. A long time. I feel better without them, Azrael. I don’t want to drink them anymore. Please. I promise to eat—”
“Are there more?”
It takes her a moment to answer. She’s surprised I cut her off. I normally don’t. “I don’t know. She keeps them in her room.”
“You will not drink those anymore. You hear me?” I ask, going to her and, without thinking, I take her shoulders and give her a shake.
“Azrael,” Willow says, and I realize what I’m doing.
“Shit. I’m sorry, Bec. I’m sorry. Just don’t drink those anymore, okay? Just…” I pull her in for a tight hug, wondering just how close I came to losing her. My innocent little sister. My defenseless little sister. If Willow hadn’t said something, I’d never have thought to test those shakes. Never. “I’m so sorry.”
I release Bec and Willow takes her hand. I look at my sister. She looks so much better these days, her coloring warmer, those shadows beneath her eyes fading. Her hair even appears shinier and her eyes, although pink from silent tears, are brighter, more vibrant. I can see our mother in her. She’ll be as beautiful as Amélie, although I don’t think she’ll be much taller than Willow. The poisoning has taken its toll.
