Chapter 2 - The Poisoned Plate
The wail of the ambulance siren shattered the quiet evening as we raced toward the hospital.
I sat in the back of the rig, holding my crying son tightly against my chest.
Clara lay on the stretcher beside us, an oxygen mask covering her beautiful face.
The paramedic worked frantically to push intravenous fluids into Clara's arm to stabilize her crashing blood pressure.
"We are losing her pulse," the paramedic shouted to the driver as the monitor began to beep frantically.
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying to any god that would listen to spare my wife.
When we crashed through the emergency room doors, a swarm of doctors ripped Clara away from me.
I was left standing in the sterile, blindingly white hallway with my baby crying in my arms.
Hours dragged by like thick molasses while I paced the waiting room floor.
The automatic doors slid open, and my mother walked in holding her designer handbag.
She looked annoyed, as if she had been inconvenienced by a delayed flight rather than a medical emergency.
"Is the theatrics over yet?" she asked, rolling her eyes as she approached me.
Before I could scream at her, the lead emergency room physician stepped out into the waiting area.
He looked exhausted, pulling off his surgical cap and wiping sweat from his forehead.
"We managed to stabilize her heart, but she is currently in a medically induced coma," the doctor said softly.
He looked directly at my mother, then turned his intense gaze back to me.
"Toxicology confirmed a massive overdose of a highly specialized cardiac medication."
The doctor read the name of the drug from his clipboard.
It was the exact same rare blood pressure medication my mother took every single morning.
May you like
I turned to look at the woman who raised me.
A slow, chilling smirk crept across my mother's face as she stared right back into my eyes.
