Chapter 2 - Something in Lily’s Blood
The first officer arrived before Patricia finished telling Daniel I was hysterical.
Officer Renee Walsh from Columbus Police stepped into the hallway, spoke briefly with hospital security, then approached me.
Patricia moved first.
“There has been a terrible accident.”
Officer Walsh held up one hand.
“Ma’am, I’ll speak with everyone separately.”
Patricia looked offended.
“I am the grandmother.”
“And I’ll speak with you separately.”
That sentence seemed to shock her.
For three weeks, Patricia had controlled every room she entered.
Hospitals were different.
I told Officer Walsh the simplest version.
Lily was crying.
Patricia told me to stop her.
We argued.
Patricia slapped me.
Lily fell.
Patricia immediately told me to describe it as an accident.
I did not add motives.
I did not call her evil.
I did not speculate about the substance in Lily’s blood.
Then the officer photographed the swelling on my cheek.
A bruise was already forming.
Daniel gave his own statement.
He had not seen the slap.
He had heard me scream.
He saw Lily on the floor.
He heard me accuse Patricia.
He heard Patricia tell me to say Lily slipped.
Then Officer Walsh asked:
“Did your mother say anything about Emily taking medication?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She’s been saying Emily is too exhausted and still taking pain medication.”
“Is that true?”
Daniel looked at me.
“No.”
That answer mattered.
I had been prescribed a short course after delivery.
I stopped taking it ten days earlier.
The bottle remained in our locked bathroom cabinet with unused medication inside.
Patricia knew because she had complained I was “being dramatic” about stopping early.
Then Dr. Blake returned.
“Mrs. Miller, Lily is being transferred upstairs to pediatric intensive care.”
I stood.
“Can I see her?”
“Briefly before transport.”
Then he glanced toward Officer Walsh.
“We also need to discuss the toxicology finding.”
Patricia’s posture changed.
Barely.
I noticed because I was watching everything now.
Dr. Blake explained that the initial screen suggested exposure to a prescription sedative.
He did not name the medication in the hallway.
Good.
He did not know whether it represented a single exposure or more.
The confirmatory lab would be more precise.
Then he said:
“Do either of you take a prescribed sleep medication?”
Daniel shook his head.
I did too.
Patricia said nothing.
Officer Walsh turned.
“Mrs. Miller?”
Patricia’s face tightened.
“I have medication for insomnia.”
My skin went cold.
Dr. Blake asked:
“Is it stored at the home?”
“Yes.”
“Could Lily have accessed it?”
Patricia almost laughed.
“She’s three weeks old.”
Exactly.
Then:
“Could anyone have accidentally mixed up a medication container with infant drops?”
“No.”
Her answer was immediate.
Too immediate.
Daniel looked at her.
“Mom, what do you take?”
Patricia snapped:
“That is private.”
“Lily has something in her blood.”
“I heard him.”
“Then answer.”
She looked at the officer.
“I take prescribed medication exactly as directed. This has nothing to do with me.”
Maybe.
At that point, nobody knew.
Then Patricia stepped toward me.
“You are the one feeding the baby.”
Officer Walsh moved between us.
“Ma’am, back up.”
Patricia ignored her.
“Emily, what did you give Lily?”
My body went cold.
“Nothing.”
“She’s been impossible to wake for days.”
Daniel turned sharply.
“You knew that?”
Patricia looked at him.
“She told me.”
I had not.
Not in those words.
I had mentioned Lily slept deeply one afternoon.
Patricia had just turned my ordinary concern into an accusation.
Then Officer Walsh said:
“Mrs. Miller, you need to stop speaking to Emily about the incident.”
“I’m trying to protect my granddaughter.”
“No. You’re interfering with my interviews.”
For the first time, Patricia stepped back.
I went to Lily.
She looked unbearably small beneath blankets and equipment.
A breathing tube.
Monitors.
Bandage near the side of her head.
I touched one tiny foot.
“I’m here.”
The nurse beside me said:
“She can hear you.”
I wanted to believe that.
Then Daniel entered.
He stopped three feet away.
“Emily.”
I did not look at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He swallowed.
“For hesitating.”
I finally turned.
“You believed her.”
“No.”
“You looked at her and wondered.”
“Yes.”
Truth.
I appreciated it and hated it.
Then:
“She’s been telling me things.”
My chest tightened.
“What things?”
Daniel looked ashamed.
“That you were overwhelmed. That you were forgetting feeds. That she found pills in the nursery once.”
I stared.
“What pills?”
“I don’t know.”
“Daniel.”
“She said she handled it.”
My entire body went cold.
“When?”
“A week ago.”
“You never told me?”
“I thought she was exaggerating.”
“Then why did you listen tonight?”
He had no answer.
That was answer enough.
A nurse stepped in.
“Mr. Miller, Mrs. Miller, the PICU team needs space.”
We left.
In the hallway, Officer Walsh was waiting.
She said detectives were seeking a warrant to preserve medications, nursery items, and relevant home-camera footage.
Then Daniel looked at me.
“We have a baby monitor.”
“I know.”
“Mom unplugged it two nights ago.”
I stared.
“What?”
“She said the light was keeping Lily awake.”
I had been too exhausted to notice.
Then Daniel’s phone vibrated.
A notification from the monitor app.
Cloud synchronization complete.
He looked at the screen.
Then at me.
“It’s still uploading.”
Patricia thought she had disabled the camera.
May you like
She had only unplugged the live monitor.
The cloud account had already saved the previous seven days.
