Chapter 4 - The Silent Poison
Sedatives.
The word echoed in my mind like a horrible gong.
I stared at the lab report, the black ink blurring through my tears.
Harper hadn't just been poisoned by the allergen; she had been drugged to suppress her body's natural fight response.
That was why her breathing had become so shallow so quickly.
"Who gave her anything to drink before the party?" my husband demanded, his voice dangerously low.
I racked my brain, trying to remember every single moment of the morning.
Then the memory flashed like a photograph.
My mother had poured Harper a special glass of birthday juice while I was hanging streamers.
She had insisted on watching Harper drink the whole thing, claiming it was a tradition.
I felt a violent surge of nausea.
My husband was already on the phone with his precinct, calling in favors to trace my mother's license plate.
"They're going to find them," he promised me, his jaw set in stone.
The doctor led us down a quiet, sterile hallway toward the pediatric intensive care unit.
Harper looked so small in the massive hospital bed, surrounded by a forest of tubes and wires.
I sat beside her, gently taking her cold, frail hand in mine.
I promised her that I would never let anyone hurt her again.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, shattering the quiet of the room.
It was a text message from an unknown number.
I opened it, and my blood ran freezing cold.
It was a picture of Harper, lying in this exact hospital bed.
The photo had been taken from the doorway just seconds ago.
I whipped my head around to look at the hallway.
May you like
The text bubble popped up again with a new message.
"I just wanted to say goodbye."
